Little Dipper
by Daughter Of The Revolution
Summary: After a Truth or Dare game with his little sister, Alfred, star football captain, finds himself pregnant. The initial shock worn off, Alfred swore to make sure that even the father would take responsibility. Of course the father just so happens to be the captain of the hockey team in eternal rivalry with his brother's hockey team. RusAme. MPREG.
1. I Want to be an Astronaut

**DOTR****: Heh, seems I just cannot stay away from MPreg. I warned you guys it's my guilty pleasure. ;3 Anyways, again, this was SUPPOSED to be a oneshot, actually, preferably a LONGshot but now it's become too long and I've decided to chop it up like I did with 49th. So, if it seems rushed by any means it's because I was writing it like a one/longshot.**

**Frankly, this was inspired by a playlist I listened to on Youtube (because, like many an author/ess, I listen to music to glide my fingers across the keyboard on my computer). I find the idea that Russia [Ivan] and America [Alfred] completely adore astronomy heartmelting(being that is possibly the only thing they have in common) and so later on I found a "universe/galaxy" playlist as you can say. They have some cool songs and stuff on that one, but my favs were Coldplay's "Sky Full of Stars" and then Ed Sheeran's "All of The Stars." Give them a listen to because those two songs are going to be the theme songs to this fic.**

* * *

><p>Alfred leaned up from the cot he was laying on and spit out the bile that had blended within his stomach and gushed out of his throat. His head was spinning and his entire body ached. He had been tackled before and many of said tackles much more hard-hitting than the one he had been dealt. Then why—why did he feel so horrible? Well, he had an idea, a pretty good idea at that but he didn't want to admit it was true. Though, now, as he laid there with the medic looking over him in worry, as well as his coach and team, he couldn't help but fear that the problem was not the tackle at all, but . . .<p>

"Alfred? Alfred!" Up came Alfred's little sister in full cheerleader outfit; pompoms shaking in her hands and short skirt swaying as she ran down onto the field to him. Tossing her pompoms down the blonde threw herself to her knees, the stains from the grass ignored as she looked down at her brother in fright. "Alfred, are you alright?" she asked before she place her hand over his flat stomach. "God, you weren't struck here were you? What if—?"

"I'm fine, Amelia," Alfred said, waving her off of him to sit up and try to shake the dizziness from his head but he only proceeded in puking once more.

"No, you're not," Amelia insisted, her hand still on his belly while her other gently rubbed his back. "We need to get you to a doctor."

"I'm not going to a doctor," Alfred informed, shaking his sister off of him once more and attempting to stand. "The team needs me." He'd lost his balance and nearly toppled into his coach.

"No, Alfred," Coach Adams said, shaking his head. "Your sister's right. You should probably see your doctor."

Alfred had been very upset that night. He was forced to leave the game early and he was forced to prove the unthinkable.

Alfred sat by himself in his doctor's office with the printed results in his hand. His doctor, Mr. Monroe, was currently informing his parents on his condition. He didn't want to go out and see them. He didn't know what they'd say or how they'd look at him now.

He was sixteen and pregnant. What would anyone say about that?

Dr. Monroe had told him it only happened to a select few males once every hundred years so Alfred wasn't too much of a freak, but he was in some serious shit after this. He really, really, really shouldn't have played Truth or Dare when his sister had her friends over for a sleepover. But he was bored and it was entertaining at least to humor the girls by taking the pregnancy test they provided for him for the dare he accepted. Of course when it came back positive he had thought again it was a joke. He hadn't laughed so hard in his life but Amelia took it quite serious and pressed for Alfred to go to their doctor to know for certain. Well, now she had her wish and they knew.

"How are you feeling, Alfred?" His dad asked during their drive home that evening. Mr. Jones might look like a stern and strict man—and he was, but that wasn't his only side—but when a matter concerned his children he was quite considerate and patient.

"I'm fine, dad," Alfred said with a sigh, not really wanting to speak right now in the car.

"Amelia told me you took a hard tackle tonight, is that true?"

"It wasn't hard and Dr. Monroe said everything's fine. I'm fine. The baby's fine. So stop asking," Alfred begged.

"Alfred, please, we're just concerned," Alfred's stepmother spoke up. He loved the woman despite her not giving birth to him but that didn't mean she could always boss him around like she was his _real_ mother.

Alfred sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I didn't know you were seeing anyone, Al," Amelia spoke up from where she sat next to him.

"Yeah? Well surprise, surprise," Alfred muttered. So, was it the teenage hormones or the pregnancy hormones making him this grouchy?

"Are you going to inform the father?" Mr. Jones asked, looking back at Alfred through the rearview mirror. His ice-blue eyes were more so insisting that he do so than questioning his next plan of action. "I would like to meet him and I would like him to get involved in his child's life."

Alfred sighed. He knew he'd have to tell him soon. He wasn't too sure how he'd feel about it all. He'd probably feel exactly like Alfred right now: confused, frustrated and frightened.

* * *

><p>The pucks flew into the net at breakneck speed. The powerful swing from the hockey stick was swung with equally powerful arms. Arms that could bend anyone in half but at the same time hold someone so securely to chase away all the fear and worry in the world.<p>

Alfred sat on the bleachers with a soft smile on his face. He had just come to love this man and worried what would become of their love after their little tester was brought up. He'd come there knowing the man would be at the ice rink practicing. He knew his training schedule and he knew he liked his solitude, which is why most of the lights were off, save for the ones illuminating the scuffed ice.

Alfred had been sitting for a good hour watching the hockey player. He meant to go to him right away when he arrived but something kept him seated. Maybe it was dread. He knew in his heart that he knew him, that he knew everything about him but now his doubt was finally setting in and he was growing cold feet.

That just wasn't heroic at all.

Alfred watched now as the player gathered up all of the hit pucks into a bucket and wiped his sweaty brow. Finally Alfred said something to make his presence known.

"Your swing's getting better, babe."

Immediately the player turned to him, his amethyst eyes wide in surprise before that heart-warming smiling etched its way from his lips up into his eyes.

"Fredka," he said as he put the bucket down and skated toward the railing. Placing his arms over the edge he smiled fondly as Alfred got up from his seat and made his way toward him. "What a pleasant surprise. I thought you'd be busy with football."

With his hands in his pockets Alfred shrugged. He then offered his boyfriend a smile though he feared his nervousness would be seen through the guise. "Was in town and thought I'd drop by."

Alfred watched his light-haired boyfriend press closer against the railing before he frowned at the obstacle in his way of embracing his lover. His eyes darted back toward the locker rooms. "Let me grab my things. We'll talk in the locker-room." Pushing off the edge he turned and skated back to gather up the bucket and his hockey stick.

Alfred nodded and did as told and now he was standing before the eighteen-year-old, watching him as he took off his jersey, and skates. His mouth opened to tell him. It was now or never and it was as good a time as any but his throat seized and he choked on his words. What was he, a coward?

It was from his silence that the older had the opportunity to stand and then pull Alfred close for a kiss. The kiss was short and sweet before the teen pulled away, satisfied with their official greeting.

"Did you see the Piscis Austrinus swimming around last night? It was very beautiful, just like you."

Alfred was kissed again and this time he found himself kissing back. It was him who fed that passionate flame because he was afraid so very afraid that all of this would vanish once he told his boyfriend about his little package. So he became selfish in that moment, holding his lover closer than he should have, kissed him harder than necessary, and looked at him with so much longing that the older felt obligated to give him everything he wanted.

"Ivan," Alfred gasped out his lover's name as his bare back pressed against shower wall tiles.

Ivan hoisted his boyfriend onto his hips and moaned at the feel of those tone and tanned legs squeezing him. The heat from the warm water spraying them was pleasant but not as pleasant as Alfred's warmth when he opened himself to him and beckoned him closer.

Alfred's eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy when Ivan entered him. They both moaned in unison and rolled their hips into the other the moment Ivan began thrusting out a rhythm. Out of irony Alfred smiled. They had never used a condom when they made love, neither felt it necessary and after their first time. Alfred would not have Ivan wear a covering while inside him. He enjoyed the bare feel of him too much, just like now.

"Faster, Ivan!" Alfred pleaded in desperation. Wrapping his arms around that thick neck of his boyfriend's and pulling him close so that he'd suck against his neck so everyone could see his love bites and know that once upon a time Alfred had belonged to him in every sense.

Ivan heeded to his lover's plea and picked up his pace. The hands on Alfred's hips squeezed tighter, guiding that tanned pelvis up and down along with Alfred's own roll.

"Yes, ah, just like that, ah!" Alfred gasped out. He knew they were the only ones in the locker room; it was late after all so he didn't muffle his voice and he knew how much Ivan liked to hear him scream.

Just two years ago Alfred would have never thought he'd be clinging to Ivan like this, asking, begging him to penetrate him deeper and fuck his brains out. Why was that? Because the previous years they had been enemies, well, at first Ivan had been his brother's enemy but after one game Alfred saw red.

_Alfred had a little brother, his name was Matthew, or Mattie as he called him, born just a year after him. In that same year their parents divorced. They both fought long and hard over his and Matthew's custody but it ended with their mother, who was Canadian, taking Matthew with her back north to her country and his dad taking him. Alfred's dad had remarried shortly after and on the very same day Alfred turned two Amelia was born._

_This separation didn't mean the two blood brothers weren't allowed to visit. Alfred's mother and Matthew lived close to the border and so when Matthew, who played hockey, had a game Alfred and his family would go and cheer for him, or when Alfred had a game his mother and brother would come to cheer him on. Then, as it was scheduled, every other year the boys would spend a summer with either their mother or their father._

_Alfred didn't really "get" hockey so his attention wasn't too inclined toward the sport but one particular hockey game of his brother's did rile him up. Apparently in the town next to Matthew's lives a hockey team that Matthew's hockey team had been rivals with for about fifty years, or something. This U.S. team was pretty good and always gave Matthew's team a run for their money, but recently the team had gotten a new captain, someone not even from America. He was a Russian, a good four years Matthew's senior and he tore up the ice._

_Hockey games were known to be violent but how that Russian played was brutal, and the worst of it all he somehow always managed to slide past fouls. It was just rigged, it had to be. In fact it had been this Ivan Braginski who had caused a fight to break out._

_He had tripped Mathew's captain right into the goal like he was a human puck. It pissed the Canadians off so much they all jumped out onto the ice and began throwing their gloves off to connect knuckles with jaw. Matthew had been the only one in his team to try to stop the fighting but only got swept up in it where he had been pushed into the large Russian immigrant. The damn foreigner had thought the Canadian was attacking him and so punched him right upside his jaw, his tooth flying out across the ice._

_Alfred's blood boiled. No one hurt his baby brother and got away with it. So, to his parents' horror, he leapt over the rail guard and ran into the rink. The problem was that the foundation was made of ice and Alfred could not skate much less walk on the stuff. He ended up sliding right into the Russian as well who, to his surprise, caught him before he fell back onto his ass._

_Alfred didn't care about the saving gesture because the guy gave him enough balance to enable the American to swing his fist right into his nose, successfully breaking that honker. The bad thing however was now Ivan's balance was thrown from the strike and he fell forward hard. He landed on top of Alfred while Alfred landed on top of the ice, his skull connecting with the hard substance._

_Alfred had been knocked unconscious. A concussion resulted in his collision and when he woke up in the hospital the nurses and doctors informed him he'd been in a semi-coma for about two weeks. That was a real shocker in itself, but for some strange reason he felt more shocked upon learning he had one other constant visitor beside his family, a teen by the name of Ivan Braginski. _

_It was weird about hearing how concerned he had been for his wellbeing, after all Alfred did successfully break his nose with his fist. One nurse had told him she had spoken with Ivan and informed Alfred that the teen had blamed himself for what had happened to Alfred. And when Alfred was fully recovered and left the hospital he received a bouquet of sunflowers from the teen in thankfulness for his recovery._

_It was nice and all and somewhat self-sacrificial but every time Alfred saw that gap in his brother's mouth where a tooth should be his blood boiled. Every time he watched his brother, now captain, play against Ivan's team Alfred's blood would boil. Ivan was a brute and nothing more._

_That same summer Alfred had stayed with his mother and brother. He loved the both very much but he always dreaded staying with his mother in Canada simply because she and Matthew were so laid back that it drove Alfred insane. He was American, he had to do something. So, to pass time he always signed up for activities around town. After finding nothing of particular interest in the Canadian town his mother and brother lived in he hopped across the border and searched there._

_The border town close to his mother and Matthew's held some good summer activities and one just so happened to be a favorite of his; stargazing. The American teacher was even a blast to hang out with so Alfred opted to attend his classes mostly. It was something to do for his summer stay, and his fascination with the celestial heavens helped push him to the class._

_After all, he wanted to be an astronaut one day._

_Of course to his horror this border town was indeed the same town the rival hockey team of Matthew's hailed from and therein was the same town that housed an Ivan Braginski . . . who just so happened to have an interest in astronomy as well._

_"B-_ _Braginski? What the hell are you doing here? !" But Ivan just looked at Alfred as if he were a monkey waving his bananas around._

_"Stargazing, what else does it look like, Jones?" Then the Russian said something that made Alfred's blood boil. "I have to know my way around astronomy if I am going to become an astronaut one day."_

_So the two were pinned against each other; taking every note, reading every suggested book as fast as they could, preening for the teacher's attention. To Alfred's chagrin Mr. Kennedy opted to pay more attention to Ivan since he was older and therefore must mean he was "more mature."_

_Alfred was pissed. So upsetting was that summer that the very next year he had convinced his dad to let him stay at his mother's again to go to that class since the American border town was a good two hours away from his dad's home and it would just be easier for him to stay with his mother to attend the class he'd become obsessed over._

_That year had turned out just like the previous and Alfred's blood pressure had risen again. So again he convinced his dad to let him stay at his mother's for the summer the following year. That summer, however changed Alfred's entire life._

_Firstly, Mr. Kennedy had fallen ill and couldn't hold the class. What was Alfred to do now? That class was his everything and without it he'd die from boredom during the summer._

_As the stargazers disbanded after hearing about Mr. Kennedy, Alfred had made to leave too but he had noticed that Ivan had stayed behind in their usual meet-up. Secretly, Alfred observed him and watched as he set up his telescope and took his own notes from observing the constellations above. Strange._

_"What are you doing? Class is canceled." Alfred had to tell him, he couldn't just let him look like a fool by himself—well, he could, but he didn't feel like it right now._

_Then Ivan looked at him. He didn't prefer being looked at like he was a bug that needed squashed. In fact he hated being ignored more and that was exactly what the Russian was attempting as he turned away from him and back to his telescope._

_"I don't need a class to stargaze on my own," Ivan had said to him and promptly ignored him after that._

_Alfred's blood boiled for the umpteenth time, but Ivan was right. So he took Ivan's lead and continued where Mr. Kennedy left off. Then, in early June a comet was announced and Alfred raced to get to look-out hill so he could get the best spot for viewing the spectacle with his telescope. _

_Perhaps he should invest in blood pressure pills because it rose to near dangerous when he saw his spot taken by none other than Braginski himself._

_"Hey, that's my spot!" Alfred had thrown a fit right in front of the foreigner and he didn't give a damn for once._

_"Really? I don't see your name anywhere," The Russian said with an uncaring air about him._

_Alfred had enough. He stomped up close to Ivan and stared him down. "It's everywhere in this country. Why? Because I was BORN here. I have rights to things FIRST!"_

_Ivan chuckled, he chuckled at Alfred. Pressing his eye against the scope to gaze up at the billion lights he said to the American, "I'm certain the Natives said the same excuse to your ancestors from the Mayflower."_

_Alfred gapped at the Russian, his face red with anger. Fine, he could find another place to view the comet. One much better than this shitty place._

_"Oh! A piece of it just broke off!" Alfred had never heard the Russian so enthusiastically excited as long as he's known him. He was always so quiet in class and even when asking questions he kept it to only a few words._

_Even so, Ivan's exclamation excited Alfred as well and he really, really wanted to view that. His excitement took over him and moved his body. Pushing Ivan out of the way Alfred decided he'd see it with the Russian's telescope._

_"Let me see! Let me see!" Alfred squealed. His eyes widened at the sight before he pulled back and looked at the telescope of Ivan's. "What model is this?"_

_"Orion StarMax 127 Maksutov-Cassegrain," Ivan said to him, a frown on his face from being shoved aside by the American. "But you wouldn't care for it. It is Russian."_

_Alfred blushed at his actions then at his admittance. "Well, it's nice. Everything's clear up there."_

_"Da, what model is yours?" Ivan asked, motioning his head toward the smaller scope in Alfred's arms._

_"Oh, this? This is just junk compared to this." Alfred pulled away from the amazing telescope. He wished he had once this nice. It was no wonder Ivan was ahead of him in class._

_There was a short uncomfortable silence before Ivan cleared his throat. "If you'd like, you can use mine."_

_Alfred looked stunned. "I can borrow it?"_

_"Nyet," Ivan stated firmly. "We will share. Unless you don't want to."_

_"No, no, that's . . . that's real nice, man." For the first time Alfred had smiled at Ivan and he could tell the older had been caught off guard by the facial expression with his widening eyes and parted lips._

_And that's how the two of them began getting to know each other. They shared notes, referred books as well as read them together at the library, guided one another to see which constellation they were looking for in the night sky. Now it had been hard to tell they were once their number one public enemy. As long as they kept away from sports as a topic then they were fine in the other's presence._

_Then, the most magical day came to pass . . ._

* * *

><p><span><strong>DOTR<strong>**: Flashback will continue in next chapter. I'm hoping to finish this by Thanksgiving Day. I've already got it written up, it's just uploading it. Ya know what makes me upload super duper fast? Thoughts, lovely thoughts and reviews. Well, if ya like it. No pressure. Gosh, I write too much :/**


	2. As the Stars are above Us

**DOTR: You guys rock my panties—I mean—socks off! :P Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews, they all made my day. And! Guess what? The more love I feel the more I give. So have some of me love with this new chappy! Again, as a reminder, this was written all out at once so it's like a giant oneshot, hence why everything's so jam-packed together. Enjoy and tell me what you think!**

* * *

><p><em>It had been Alfred's Sweet 16th birthday. His dad, stepmom and little sister had driven up to see him and celebrate. The party had been amazing and the fireworks that day seemed to explode in celebration just for him.<em>

_But the night had not been over._

_To his family's surprise Alfred pulled himself away from them and ran toward a lonely hill where Ivan had waited for him with his awesome telescope already set up to gaze up at the meteor shower coming that night._

_"You made it." Ivan looked genuinely happy and it made Alfred smile._

_"Of course. Told you I could convince my family to let me go," Alfred stated with a bold laugh._

_"But today is your birthday as well as this country's. You should be with your family."_

_"And let you take lead? I don't think so, pal," Alfred said, elbowing Ivan in the gut before he leaned down to gaze at the clear night sky. "Ah! They're starting!" Alfred leaned away and allowed Ivan to take a peek. The night went on like this before Alfred smiled in satisfaction. "I love this thing," he praised the telescope. "It's like you're right up there as they shoot past you."_

_"I'm glad you like your present."_

_Alfred gapped. He turned to Ivan who continued to smile at him. "You . . . you're giving me your telescope?"_

_"Nyet," Ivan shot down the bogus claim. "Mine is at home. This is all yours, straight from Russia. I made sure it was delivered here quickly in time for your birthday."_

_"Th-That must have cost a crap ton of money!" Alfred squeaked. No one's bought him such an expensive gift. No one._

_ "Da, just pennies for a friend," Ivan stated._

_Friend. Yeah, that sounded nice._

_"Thank-you so much!" Alfred had been so happy that he flat out kissed Ivan square on his mouth. Don't get Alfred wrong, he liked his ladies but in that moment he just really wanted to kiss the Russian and so he did. In his excitement as he pulled away and returned back to the telescope he had not noticed Ivan touching his lips, his violet eyes wide and dazed._

_Alfred had been merrily stargazing when he felt Ivan pull him away from the telescope and hold him still by his shoulders. The look in those eyes unsettled Alfred but excited him all at once. The flush spreading across the blonde's face darkened when Ivan leaned down and kissed him on his own._

_Honestly, Alfred hadn't known what came over him when he gave the Russian a smooch previously and he didn't know what had come over Ivan when he returned a kiss of his own, but Alfred's eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed enough for the older to wrap his arms around him and pull him closer, deepening the kiss._

_Alfred hadn't kept track on how long they kissed but when their hot lips finally detached Alfred found himself staring up into the night sky, now lain out on the grass with Ivan laying on top of him. Bright eyes turned from the stars to Ivan who was breathing heavily, looking down at Alfred with deep desire. Just how long had Ivan felt this way? How long had he carried this inside him? Did it just come on after Alfred's smooch or had it dwelt inside him for a while? Couldn't be, right? What of Alfred? Why hadn't he pulled away? Why was he pressing closer?_

_Why did Alfred lean up and kiss Ivan again?_

_The hand creeping up under his shirt was cold but gentle, the feel of the touch pleasant on this hot summer's night. Ivan knew how to kiss and soon their tongues were wrapping themselves around the other, rubbing, thrusting, caressing. Alfred was a good kisser too of course; he had at least two girlfriends previously before grades and football took up all his time. So he matched Ivan tit for tat._

_Alfred's hands took a hold of Ivan's shirt and pulled. The shirt slipped up the small of his back just enough for the blond to press the tips of his fingers into pale skin. He felt Ivan moan into his mouth. The sound and feel of it went straight to Alfred's groin._

_Right then Alfred would have turned beet-red, he would have pushed Ivan away, covered his embarrassment and ran home as fast as he could, but this was something else. Alfred felt no shame in moaning just as pleased as Ivan. He felt no shame when his hardening manhood poked Ivan in the stomach or when his hips rolled into the Russian's. Why? Because Ivan felt the same._

_Ivan's hips rolled into him once before the eighteen-year-old pulled back. He looked like an angel with the meteor shower in the background shooting past him and soon Alfred found himself moaning just at the sight of him, his tanned hand releasing its hold on the shirt and instead coming up to tug at that ridiculous scarf the Russian always wore._

_"Let me give you another present," Ivan begged. He rolled his hips down into Alfred's again and the younger moaned._

_Alfred knew what Ivan was implying and for some odd reason he didn't stop him. He should have, right? They just got on good terms with the other, going so far as to call themselves "friends," but even so a sense of connectivity engulfed Alfred and he felt like he'd known Ivan his entire life, like right before his soul inhabited his earthly body and it had been floating up there with God and the Angels and the stars that he had touched Ivan's own soul and bonded in some way Alfred couldn't describe._

_Call Alfred crazy but that was exactly how he felt that night and the days following and by the look in Ivan's eyes he felt exactly the same._

_Ivan reached forward. His fingers slowly and gently touched the frame of Alfred's glasses before he looked into his eyes for permission. It must have been the twinkle in Alfred's eyes that enticed Ivan to continue because he took off the lenses and set it down away from them. Then his cool hands returned underneath his shirt except this time they pressed upward until Alfred's Batman shirt was up and off his torso. The night air felt fine on his hot skin, but not as much as those exploring hands. The hands ran over Alfred's lean form and developing muscle before running over his collarbone, up his slender neck, and then they cupped the sides of his face, the thumbs caressing his high cheekbones that he inherited from his mother._

_Alfred could see the darkening flush across Ivan's pale face. His eyes were scanning him for a moment, taking in his features and all Alfred could do was stare up at him with parted lips and half-lidded eyes._

_"You're so very beautiful, Alfred," Ivan whispered to him as he looked down at him with the softest violet eyes Alfred's ever seen the Russian bare. Alfred hadn't thought he'd be capable of this gentle tenderness but yet again Alfred had been proved wrong and he was falling, falling so fast._

_The flush on Alfred's face darkened a little at Ivan's statement and steadied its hue when Ivan leaned down to kiss him again. While Ivan's hands were fumbling with his belt and buckle Alfred set to work on touching bare chest to bare chest. When he tugged the shirt and scarf off of the Russian the pale teen smiled down at him, holding up Alfred's belt with that round Captain America shield belt buckle. As if in a teasing manner Ivan dropped the leather article onto the grass and rubbed his chest against Alfred's._

_The blond moaned, his hands quickly slithering in-between their bodies to feel the chest he revealed. To Alfred's surprise he found muscle under his touch. The hockey jerseys and padding always concealed the shape of the players bodies yet when Ivan attended their astronomy class he always caught him with a heavy shirt on, even in the dead of the day. So it was only natural for Alfred to think Ivan a tad bit pudgy, but this . . . Ivan was quite fit and the size of his muscles even larger than Alfred's. But then again Alfred could just excuse his age when comparing. He'd grow, maybe to be as big and thick as Ivan._

_Alfred could not stop his hands from rubbing the harder frame of Ivan in admiration of his size. The older seemed to like it at the feel of his shivers. How the muscles trembled under his touch amazed Alfred but his attention was soon taken away when Ivan pulled himself away again and pulled Alfred's jeans down and then off of his legs. Ivan gave Alfred another look for permission as his fingers hooked into the band of his boxers. Alfred simply rose his hips as a response and off the last covering came._

_Again, there had been no look of embarrassment as Ivan stared down at him. When before Ivan might have made some snide remark and gesture about Alfred's size and lack of control, now he simply wrapped his fingers around the erect phallus and leaned down, popped the head into his mouth._

_"Ah!" Alfred gasped out loudly, his head rolling back into the grass underneath, his hands reaching outward to grab chunks of grass and pull out the blades._

_Yes, Alfred's had a few girlfriends. Yes, Alfred's at least gone to second base. But this? Alfred's never had this done on him before and, by God, what had he been missing?_

_"I-Ivan, ah!" Alfred gasped out. He wanted to buck so bad but Ivan was smart. One of his hands pressed down Alfred's hips when he sucked him._

_The Russian never went as far as the head. He pulled back and gave the red head of Alfred's cock one last lick, catching up the precum dripping out of it. He licked his lips when his eyes met Alfred's. The boy was mesmerized by Ivan's motion, his bright blue eyes now dark and clouding._

_As Ivan crawled back on top of him he grabbed a hold of Alfred's jaw, prying it apart to open that warm mouth of his. Leaning down, Ivan kissed him again, allowing Alfred to taste himself. It was a strange taste, but not entirely unpleasant and with how Ivan kissed him Alfred would gladly take a mouthful of cum if just from him._

_The Russian pulled back at the feel of Alfred's hands on his pants, tugging at his belt. Again he offered a smile. He took Alfred's hands and guided them to the buckle. Once loose Alfred's fingers pinched the tag of the zipper and pulled it down. The sound echoed all around him and Alfred shivered when he finally got to touch Ivan's arousal when his hand slipped inside the pants and rubbed._

_He felt big. _Very_ big._

_There was no fear, no doubt, nothing to stall Alfred's want to see all of him and to feel all of him. When Ivan pushed the rest of his clothing off of him Alfred finally got his wish. He, himself, was decently big, at least bigger than his brother—yes they were bored one movie night and measured themselves; they were boys, what would one expect?—but Ivan . . . Alfred's showered with his teammates before, he's seen many a dick but Ivan was the biggest he's ever seen and, my God, was it standing erect for him._

_"Touch me, Fredka," Ivan bade as he took Alfred's hand and pressed the palm of it against the engorged member._

_Alfred's head nodded subconsciously before he pushed up and sat down in front of Ivan to rub him. Ivan's hand laid on top of his own as he rubbed and watched the skin bunch up around the head before sliding back down the shaft with Alfred's strokes. The sighs leaving Ivan's mouth sounded heavenly and the American's own arousal ached with need from the sounds. _

_Glancing up at the older, Alfred took in the sight of him. With eyes closed, chin tilted upward to inch his head back a little ways, and lips parted to let out steady moans, Alfred drooled._

_Alfred began rubbing himself at the sight and when the tingling sensation began traveling up and down his spine, curling his toes, he thought back on what Ivan had done to him. The idea wasn't bad and since Ivan did it to him then he was certain Ivan would enjoy it just as much as Alfred had._

_Alfred leaned down, parting his lips and breathing hotly over the head, and then he stopped. He would have continued his descent if Ivan's hand hadn't wrapped its fingers into his hair and halted him as he was leaning over to offer the same pleasure the Russian had given._

_Flicking his eyes upward, Alfred caught sight of Ivan shaking his head._

_"You don't have to," he told Alfred but the American was already so close and could feel Ivan's pelvis straining itself to control its need to thrust, to buck._

_This time Alfred flashed a smile up at Ivan. "But I want to," he informed before he felt those fingers loosen but not release. As long as they allowed him to move then Alfred didn't care if they remained tangled in his hair._

_Leaning back down Alfred pressed a kiss to the head of Ivan's cock. He tasted the precum on his lips and when he pulled back a string of the substance hung from his lips to the slit of the dick. Flicking his tongue out Alfred swiped the string into his mouth and cut the connection. He felt the fingers in his hair tighten again and when he glanced up he saw Ivan biting on his knuckles, eyes closed tightly, and a flush shading his pale skin redder and redder. Alfred liked that look so he grabbed hold of the cock and shoved what he could into his mouth. He had meant to suck on the head just like Ivan had done for him but he had gotten caught up in the excitement after seeing Ivan so undone that he went further than planned._

_Ivan choked out a moan and bucked into Alfred's throat. Alfred could tell he tried to hold himself back. He knew his thrust could have been harder, but even so the half buck still managed to choke him._

_Alfred pulled back and coughed. Ivan had been quick to fall to his side and rub his back in apology._

_"I am so sorry, Fredka, I—"_

_"What, first time letting someone suck you?" Alfred gasped out his question, rubbing the sting out of his eyes. It had been Alfred's first time getting blowed too but at least he had some sense of control._

_"Nyet, I've had plenty of _favors_ from girls and boys," Ivan informed. Of course, captain of the hockey team and he'd get some head. Still, where's that experience when his self-control waned and he bucked into Alfred's throat? Alfred could have puked if his gag reflex had been hit too hard. Well, he supposed that's what he got for taking so much of Ivan into his mouth. Eh, novice mistake._

_Whilst Alfred coughed out the rest of his chokes Ivan reached out and took hold of his chin, turning his face to his and pulling that mouth close to feel his hot breath._

_"Do not think I lack self-control," Ivan purred against Alfred's lips, raising the sixteen-year-old boy's body temperature. "I am a very good experienced participant in this activity, but your mouth enticed me more so than the others."_

_Alfred flushed and leaned forward to rub his lips against Ivan's to tease. "You really like my lips that much?"_

_"Da," Ivan answered. He smiled dangerously at Alfred. "But only when they are shut on my mouth . . . and around my cock."_

_Alfred could have been offended if Ivan's breathy words hadn't aroused him so much._

_"Can I try one more time?" Ivan and Alfred were both surprised with the invitation. Alfred mostly after nearly choking on the dick but he really enjoyed pleasuring Ivan and if said Russian liked his mouth so much might as well put it to good use._

_Ivan nodded, his hand returning to the back of Alfred's head as he guided him back down. This time Alfred simply took the head into his mouth, sucking softly before attempting to suck in a few more inches._

_"Easy," Alfred heard Ivan say in instruction. His hand rubbed the back of his head gently. "Go a little slower if you're having trouble. If you want to take more into your mouth you'll have to relax your throat."_

_Alfred hummed in reply but when he had the Russian jumped. This time Alfred had his throat relaxed so it hadn't been too bad when Ivan did so. He heard the older let out a shaky moan and so tried it again._

_"Ah, Fredka!" Ivan gasped before both of his hands reached down and pressed against the sides of the blonde's face. Alfred knew he was doing something right as he felt those hands subtly tugging closer, silently asking him to take more of him into his mouth. Alfred tried._

_The American glanced up when one of Ivan's hands left his face. He watched as Ivan began sucking on four fingers. Alfred enjoyed the sight but before long the hand on Alfred's face moved back into his hair, pulling to tug him off._

_Alfred and Ivan locked gazes as the older pushed Alfred back down onto the cool grass of the night. Then Ivan kissed him long and deep. His hands caressed Alfred's thighs and guided them apart. It was weird to spread them so wide but even more so when a finger entered him._

_Alfred tensed, his nails digging into Ivan's shoulders. Ivan was quick to catch his discomfort and so brought his hand to Alfred's arousal and stroked it a little while until Alfred was relaxed enough to press in deeper._

_"S-Sorry," Alfred had said, inhaling a shaky breath and offering Ivan an apologetic smile._

_"Sshh, don't be," Ivan hushed him as he leaned down and gave Alfred a kiss. "Just relax, da?"_

_Alfred nodded quickly and swallowed. "D-Da." When the second finger entered Alfred sucked in a sharp breath, closing his eyes tightly. "S-So how do—how do you tell when I'm ready?" The American opened his eyes just in time to see Ivan nuzzle against his knee and kiss the inside of his spread thigh. Then he smiled at the blond._

_"Your body tells me," the Russian replied to Alfred's question._

_Like Alfred knew anything about this. First time after all, so he relied on Ivan's experience. If he said so then it must be true._

_The third finger entered a little bit easier after the two inside him had scissored his insides. Alfred knew Ivan caressing his length and fondling his balls was meant to help ease him but after a while—and preparation was taking a looong time—Alfred grew annoyed and swatted the hands away. Ivan's eyes blinked in confusion but Alfred simply reached out and grabbed a hold of the older's neck, pulling him back down on top of him to kiss._

_When Ivan moaned Alfred moaned. The Russian atop him began grinding into him and those fingers of his just so happened to rub against something inside him that made him jump._

_Eyes popping open and a startled cry let out that was swallowed by Ivan, Alfred pulled away. He was panting and trembling. He looked confused and intensely nervous. His blue eyes turned back to Ivan in ask of what had just happened to him, but the older teen simply smiled back at him and kissed him again and struck that pleasure spot again. After a few more strokes Alfred became comfortable with the nerve and now he was bucking and pressing himself down more on those fingers. Ivan felt it was right to add the fourth finger._

_"Ivan, ngh!" Alfred moaned, sucking in a quick breath through his teeth. _

_Alfred's entire body felt like it was on fire and he couldn't stand it. His eyes shot open and his lips parted in silent gasping pleasure. His gaze flew up into the night sky and the shooting stars continued to fall above them and light up the night sky. This night could not be more perfect._

_"Put it in me."_

_Ivan seemed to not have heard him the first time so Alfred looked back at him and said, "Now. I want you inside me."_

_Ivan was quiet as Alfred stared at him. Their eyes remained locked even as Ivan's fingers pressed as deep as they could reach. After a short pause Ivan pulled his digits out and nodded._

_Now Alfred watched as the older spit into his hand and lathered his thick length the best he could. He smiled when Ivan finally crawled back atop his body and pressed close. Alfred spread his legs for him to his best ability, his hands rubbing up Ivan's ribs then the expanse of his back._

_Ivan's arms wrapped tight and Alfred's head pressed close against the older's neck when he felt him begin to enter. Ivan had pressed as far as his fingers had but when he pushed in further that's when Alfred began to cry tears of pain. They fell down onto Ivan's shoulder and the moment it made contact with the pale skin Ivan stilled himself and looked down at him._

_The look in Ivan's eyes was that of concern but he offered no words to ease the younger, only his touch. Alfred opened his stinging eyes at the feel of Ivan running his fingers through his hair before the backs of his knuckles rubbed against the tears running down his tanned cheeks. The tenderness in Ivan's eyes when before all Alfred had seen was malice; the caring in his smile when before all Alfred saw was conniving mischief, it was all so overwhelming to him and the stars . . . oh they illuminated Ivan and made his pale skin glow. That very moment Alfred knew the Russian could easily fit right in there among the diamonds of the sky. He was too beautiful to stay grounded here on earth._

_To Ivan, however, he felt the same. As the Russian looked down at the boy in his arms his heart fluttered when before it used to remain dead inside his chest; it beat for no one._

_But he was wrong._

_Alfred's teary eyes glistened and reflected beautifully the stars shooting over them. While Alfred could easily observe the celestial performance by turning his gaze to the sky Ivan watched it clearly as well, inside Alfred's breathtaking eyes._

_Ivan leaned down and kissed Alfred hotly. The younger pressed back and returned the passion with vigor. They melded their bodies together as Ivan moved again, pressing in deeper. Alfred just had to fall for the guy with the biggest dick in the world, huh? For a moment Alfred was afraid Ivan wouldn't fit inside him and that upset him because he wanted to feel all of him._

_"Please, Ivan, more," Alfred begged through painfully clenched grit teeth. He tried to hide the pain on his face but he was certain Ivan saw it. Then, he felt a soft caress on his face and when he opened his eyes again he saw the concern in Ivan's frown._

_"I do not want to hurt you," Ivan said to him._

_"You will if you don't fill me," Alfred gasped out and he was serious. Ivan's reluctance perturbed Alfred. The Russian was already halfway in so why not complete the invasion? Reaching up Alfred cupped Ivan's face and pressed their foreheads together. "Please," Alfred whispered. He wrapped his legs around Ivan's waist for encouragement and to pull closer._

_It seemed like an eternity before the damn Russian made up his mind and Alfred knew when he did because he took a hold of his hips and slammed the rest of his length into him. Alfred threw his head back, eyes clenched shut again and mouth open in a silent cry. It had hurt and his ass felt like it was on fire but it was what he wanted. He was definitely glad Ivan remained still for a moment to let him adjust to the anal expansion._

_"Fredka," Ivan moaned, burying his head into Alfred's neck. "Vy tak krepko."_

_Alfred hated it when the bastard spoke Commie but now his penis twitched at the sound of the foreign language and now all he wanted was for Ivan to fuck him into the ground and whisper Russian in his ears. Yeah, that sounded hot._

_After the pain began to subside Alfred started to _feel _Ivan inside him. It was strange to have something shoved up _there_, but soon it began to feel pleasant. Despite Ivan being a relatively cold human being his manhood was not. The heat it emitted made Alfred moan. He could even feel it pulsing inside him. God, did he want to touch himself right now to that thought._

_"Y-You feel good t-too, Ivan. You feel good too," Alfred managed to say as he shook underneath the older teen. He moaned when he felt it twitch inside him and leaned down to kiss Ivan on his neck. The Russian looked up at him; their eyes locked once more, enticing the older to lean forward and connect their lips._

_Alfred opened his mouth and let Ivan's tongue inside. When Ivan pulled back Alfred had thought he was pulling out so his hands shot down to his hips and gripped tightly, trying to prevent the Russian from taking himself out. They had already made it this far so why would he—?_

_Ivan, however, had no intention on disconnecting himself from Alfred. He simply pulled back until only the head of his cock remained inside before he pushed back inside, slowly so not to tear anything inside Alfred. He quite enjoyed being inside him and hoped they'd do this again sometime soon after this night._

_Ivan smiled against Alfred's lips when he felt the boy's hands grab his hips. Alfred wanted to keep him inside? Well, so did he. Ivan kissed down Alfred's neck and picked up a rhythm. Back and forth, in and out. It wasn't long before Alfred began panting out moans, chanting Ivan's name like a mantra._

_Ivan loved hearing Alfred say his name. No more sarcastic tone, no more shouts of threat laced with anger, no, no this was nothing but want and ecstasy._

_Steadily Ivan picked up pace, pressing his hips harder against Alfred's where they were raised and sat in Ivan's lap. This made the penetration deeper and both moaned at the feel. Ivan continued to kiss and suck his way down Alfred's neck before he reached a nipple and popped it into his mouth. Alfred arched into him and the sound he made was beautiful, so Ivan did the same to the other one._

_Alfred's hands flew to Ivan's head, his fingers tangling into ashen blond locks. "Oh! Ivan, ah! You . . . you—AH!" Alfred bucked against Ivan and threw his rhythm off. _

_Ivan pulled away from the bud and looked up toward Alfred's face. His blue eyes were closed and his teeth chewing on his bottom lip. The boy's body had gone rigid and Ivan knew exactly why._

_Ivan re-angled his hips to strike the boy's prostrate and when he hit it dead on Alfred bucked against him. Ivan enjoyed Alfred's movement against him so he opted to thrust just like that to get the boy to participate instead of just laying still and waiting beneath him. And Alfred did. Before long Alfred was rolling his hips in time with Ivan's thrusts and now Ivan readily picked up speed._

_"Yes! Yes! Yes! Iva—ah!" They were the only ones there for miles so Ivan nor Alfred found it necessary to muffle their cries of pleasure and both enjoyed the voluminous heights they were brought to that night._

_The winds blowing rustled the leaves of the trees surrounding and almost drowned out the sound of skin slapping skin but all of Alfred and Ivan's sounds vibrated against the American's eardrums and he drooled at the sound. His hands remained on Ivan's hips as they moved against him. Ivan's hands took to grasping his thighs, pressing them close against his pelvis. Alfred had spread his legs, as humanly possible, wanting Ivan deeper so that he could feel him for weeks to come. His own arousal lay against Ivan's toned abdomen, standing fully erect, colored hot red, and dripping so much. The way it rubbed against Ivan was nothing but teases to already heightened senses._

_"Ivan, Ivan, please!" Alfred couldn't say exactly what he wanted but Ivan understood even so. When a hand reached down and began stroking him. Alfred tossed his head to and fro from the extra pleasure tingling up his spine and turning his brain to goo. "Yes! Ivan, God, yes! That's it, that's it!"_

_Alfred felt his orgasm coming and apparently so did Ivan who squeezed the younger's cock to stop him from releasing. Alfred's eyes opened and he trembled. He was so close from teetering over that edge of sanity and Alfred wanted to fall so bad into the chasm of euphoria. _

_Looking at Ivan, the Russian looked worn too. He looked just as close as Alfred. Then he leaned forward and whispered against Alfred's swollen lips, "Together."_

_The kiss following shocked the both of them into orgasm. Alfred moaned upon feeling Ivan release his engorged dick. Finally the pressure had been released and he came so hard that his seed coated both of their chests a sticky warm white._

_The American choked out another moan when he felt Ivan release inside him. He groaned at the strange sensation. His insides were filled to the brim, he could feel it, and the substance was hot inside him, giving the dull burn in his stomach another reason to spark into a wildfire again._

_He liked the feeling of being filled, especially by Ivan. He was very pleased that the Russian decided to ride out his orgasm instead of still himself because Alfred wanted to ride back down to earth with him._

_Ivan's elbows buckled and he nearly came crashing down on top of Alfred. The blond had been ready for the impact but Ivan managed to catch himself. Chests pressed close together Alfred felt their heart beats. They beat in time as the other and it amazed him and warmed his insides. Looking up at Ivan he could tell he felt the same with that tender smile Alfred had fallen for._

_When Ivan leaned down to kiss him again it was slower, almost with uncertainty and so Alfred met his lips halfway to assure the older that he had no regrets. Ivan kissed him back with enthusiasm, so much so that Alfred began to feel his body heat again, but before it could rise him Ivan pulled himself out of him._

_Alfred moaned in their kiss and arched. It hurt a little to have him pull out. After they were separated the Russian pulled away and turned to lay on his back next to Alfred in the grass, both of their eyes wide up at the clear stars above._

_Ivan smiled and pointed up. "It's amazing how Ursa Major looks so clear, even at this time of the year. There's your Big Dipper you like so much, Alfred."_

_There was a short silence before Alfred spoke up, his eyes still locked onto the stars above. "It's over." He was referring to the meteor shower. There was a small regret welling up inside him at the thought of the passed spectacle. He had kept Ivan from seeing it. He knew how much he enjoyed watching those events. "Sorry."_

_Alfred heard Ivan chuckle and when he turned his eyes back to the Russian lying next to him he saw his sparkling eyes on him. How could they be so luminescent?_

_"Nyet, I saw the entire event in your eyes." Ivan had reached forward and caressed Alfred's face with his large hands. Alfred smiled and rubbed his face into the touch endearingly. When the hand guided him back into a kiss Alfred gave him his heart._

_And that was how their relationship started—well, their sexual relationship that is. They hadn't really sorted out everything when they left each other that night and it wasn't until the next week that this issue arose and the awkwardness showed itself. The two teens had never really thought about dating but that following week they set up the rules._

_They wanted to be together despite Alfred having to live two hours away. Both knew the only time they'd be able to see each other would be at tournaments when Ivan's team and Matthew's team faced off and then during the summer. It still was not enough time for the two so Ivan added in visits from himself since he could drive on his own._

_That was decided and the moment it was Alfred and Ivan had sex again. It was quick and heated like they hadn't seen each other in years and burned for the other's touches and kisses. Twice, they had sex twice that day. _

_The second time Ivan had decided to try to properly do it with lubricant and condoms. The lube was pleasant for Alfred, allowing Ivan to slide in and out of him easier than simple spittle, but the condom perturbed the American. He didn't like the feel of it inside him and they had tried many different brands until Alfred flat out told Ivan to pull out of him and discard the covering. Could anyone blame the blond for wanting to feel _all_ of his boyfriend? No, of course not._

Now, though, Alfred realized he should have dealt with the discomfort. Probably would have prevented his current condition. Well . . . according to the doctor, maybe not.

Alfred tossed his head back and moaned toward the ceiling as Ivan thrust hard and deep into him, releasing himself and filling Alfred the way he liked it. What? It's not like he could get pregnant again.

Looking down at Ivan he watched the larger tremble from his orgasm. He inhaled and exhaled heavy breaths before looking back up toward Alfred and smiling. He always looked so rejuvenated after sex so their meetings always started out with the activity. Shit, they banged about six times the day Alfred had to leave back to his dad's home. Couldn't walk for at least three days which gave Alfred an excuse to be lazy.

Alfred still hadn't told Ivan yet and wondered why the hell he couldn't do it. He needed to know. It just wouldn't be fair if he wasn't informed, after all it was his baby inside Alfred.

"You're unusually quiet today, podsolnechnik," Ivan said against his shoulders as he kissed him there and continued to clean him. He enjoyed washing Alfred after sex and Alfred enjoyed washing him.

"Got a lot on my mind," Alfred admitted with a roll of his shoulders.

Ivan then kissed him on the neck and rubbed his shoulders and arms with soapy hands. "Anything you'd like to share?"

_Yes_, Alfred thought to himself but remained quiet. So, Ivan continued to wash him. Alfred sighed when those strong hands rubbed over his pecks, purposely tugging at his nipples. Ivan wanted another round?

Alfred's question was answered when one of those hands left a nipple and grabbed a hold of his cock. While the idea of another go was pleasant Alfred found himself sore. It could be because of the baby or it could be because Ivan had been a little rough before. They hadn't seen each other in three weeks so it was expected but not the soreness.

Taking a hold of Ivan's wrists Alfred guided the hands up to his abdomen and held them there.

"Ivan, I'm pregnant." There, Alfred finally said it, but the heavy pounding of his heart never went away and his breath caught up in his throat.

He felt Ivan stiffen behind him. Suddenly Alfred's heart dropped and he felt tears begin to sting his eyes. The fear of Ivan leaving him—leaving _them_ arose rapidly.

"Sixteen weeks," Alfred felt he should share. "Doc said early July." Of course it had been Alfred's Sweet 16. Ivan had given him more than a telescope and his heart that night.

The silence made Alfred want to cry. And he about did until he froze himself at the feel of Ivan's prodding fingers, poking his abdomen before he rubbed it affectionately. Then Alfred was turned around and his face cupped and tilted.

Ivan was smiling. His eyes soft and his thumbs caressing under Alfred's red eyes. Of course when he took in Alfred's near-tear state he furrowed his brow.

"Are you unhappy?" Ivan asked.

Alfred choked. The tears came. "No," he whined out, rubbing his stinging eyes and blaming Ivan for getting soap in them. "Aren't you?"

"Of course not," Ivan explained. "Why would I ever be unhappy with you?"

"I dunno, maybe because I happen to be one of the few males that can get pregnant and now I'm burdening you with a kid."

The shower was turned off and Alfred wished Ivan would have kept it on so the sound of the water could muffle his pathetic sobs. Once again his face was cupped and this time a pleasant touch of his lips met his own. When the lips pulled away Alfred opened his eyes and stared into Ivan's serious eyes.

"You will never be a burden to me, Alfred," Ivan told him.

A new set of tears rolled down the American's cheeks and right away he'd blame it all on those hormones the doctor said would shift like mad during his carrying.

"What about our dream?" Alfred asked. Now how were they supposed to become astronauts? They needed degrees, degrees in engineering, biological science, physical science, and maybe mathematics, and those came with years of studying and good grades. There was no way now they could possibly hope to do that with a little one swinging off their arms.

"I don't see why you can't still become an astronaut," Ivan said as he reached over and grabbed their towels. "The child is mine, da? Then I will take care of it while you go to college."

"Me? What about you?" Alfred pressed close so that Ivan may see his distress. "You're older; it's been your dream longer."

"Da, I am older," Ivan nodded in agreement as he dried off his hair and then pulled the towel against his shoulders. "So I will take more responsibility and sacrifice my dreams for yours."

"N-No, you can't just do that!" Alfred followed Ivan out of the showers toward the lockers. The Russian was currently picking up all of Alfred's clothing that had been tossed carelessly around as they began their passionate dance toward the showers. "We—we're supposed to do this together."

Ivan turned to him and looked at Alfred's sad smile pleading that Ivan listen to him and do this. When Ivan picked up Alfred's glasses laying on the bench he walked up to the younger and placed the lenses onto the American's face, letting his fingers swipe against wet golden hair for a moment before he said—

"You go first. When the child is older I will join you."

"Damn it, no, Ivan!" Alfred shouted, shooting his fist out into a nearby locker, denting it effectively. "I can't—I won't do it without you. I love you. I don't want to be apart from you."

Alfred had said it, he had told Ivan that he loved him and he did with all his heart. Throughout their relationship both knew that the care and longing they felt for the other was love and so felt no need to vocally say it but Alfred finally did, was the first to do so simply because he wanted Ivan to read his lips and know that he wasn't afraid to say it and express his heart-felt feelings.

Ivan looked surprised that he said it but that warm smile seeping onto his lips reflected Alfred's statement. Then he reached out and pulled the pregnant boy to him, holding him close as he whispered, "Da, ya tebya lyublyu slishkom, Alfredka."

Alfred couldn't understand a word of that commie language but by the way his heart fluttered he knew that Ivan told him that he loved him as well making him melt into his embrace.

"Do this for me, Alfred," Ivan said, squeezing him tighter before he pulled away and looked into those beautiful blue eyes that glistened with tears that should not be there. "I promise I'll be right behind you."

Reluctantly Alfred nodded and then threw his arms around Ivan's neck, pulling him close. "Thank-you so much, Ivan."

Alfred had thought telling Ivan was the worst part of this ordeal, but he was wrong. It was meeting the families that almost killed him.

* * *

><p><span><strong>DOTR<strong>**: in case no one's really for sure, here's their ages . . .**

**Alfred: Just turned 16 that year.**

**Ivan: Getting ready to turn 19 in December.**

**Matthew: 15**

**Amelia: 14**

**Katyusha: 25**

**Natalia: 16**


	3. When Galaxies Collide

**DOTR: Looks like I won't be finishing this fic before Thanksgiving . . . oh well! Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Have something to read while you're munching on that turkey leg. ;D**

* * *

><p>"Seriously, Al? Braginski?" Matthew looked at Alfred like he had grown a second head.<p>

Alfred just fidgeted where he sat next to Ivan who had come along to reveal himself to Alfred's family, both the Jones and the Williams.

"I thought you two hated each other," Matthew continued.

Alfred blushed. "Well . . . we found a few things we had in common and one thing led to another and . . . now we're together."

"Awwwww," came Amelia's coo. "You've gotta tell me how you two hooked up in detail."

"Not now, Amy," Alfred muttered, his face completely red. Knowing her she would corner him and quite literally force him to tell her everything—and like she said, in _detail_.

"Well, aside from that, I'd like to know your feeling on Alfred's pregnancy as well as your intentions. I assume from your showing up with Alfred you plan to be a part of this child's life?" Mr. Jones eyed Ivan warily. Like Alfred, he was cautious of foreigners as well.

"Da—I mean, yes," Ivan answered with more precise English after seeing Mr. Jones' reaction to him using partial Russian dialogue. "I was not raised to be a quitter, and while this is certainly unexpected I will still hold to my beliefs and do what I can. You should not fear that I would leave Alfred or the child. That is the last thing I would do."

"Do you have parents here, Ivan?" Mr. Jones asked. "I should like to meet them."

Ivan sighed and frowned. "Nye—excuse me, no, I don't. I live here with my sisters. Katyusha is my elder, if you would like to speak with her you may."

"It would be nice to get to know your family, if that is alright with you."

Ivan nodded. "I'm sure that will be fine with them."

After Alfred's parents had asked enough questions to their content Ivan was finally released and allowed to leave. Alfred walked him out to his car and when Ivan opened his door he froze and then shut it. He looked to Alfred with upset frustration.

"They hate me," He observed sadly.

"No they don't," Alfred said. "Amy's taken to ya. Mattie? Eh, give him time or maybe a few games—just lose on purpose okay and give him the cup."

"Hell no," Ivan stated with final.

"Okay then, but na, they don't hate you," Alfred assured.

"Your father looked at me like I was an enemy," Ivan pouted. "I'm afraid he won't let me see my child when you give birth."

"He won't do that," Alfred said as he patted his boyfriend on his back to try to cheer him up someway with a comforting gesture. "He's just not big on trusting foreigners."

"I am a citizen," Ivan explained. "I'm no longer a foreigner."

Alfred sighed and crossed his arms. "Give him time, okay? He'll come around. Oh, and I didn't know you had sisters."

"That's because you didn't ask," Ivan informed.

"But we fucked at least ten times at your house, I didn't see them once," Alfred said.

"That's because I'm leery on you meeting them," Ivan said, remembering to have made sure they were both out of the house when he invited Alfred over to show him around his home and indulge in some _fun_ activities.

"What, why?" Alfred asked. "Dude, I think I'd need to know my kid's future aunts, okay."

Alfred was right and Ivan knew it, but that didn't mean he wouldn't still remain reluctant. After much talking Alfred finally managed to convince Ivan to bring the ladies over for Thanksgiving.

"Ooohh, you must be Alfred, it is such a pleasure to finally meet you!" Suddenly Alfred found his face squished between the biggest boobs he's ever seen, and he's seen some mountains.

"Sestra, please." Alfred couldn't see him but that sounded like Ivan trying to coax his sister to not suffocate his boyfriend with her bodacious mounds.

"Oh, forgive me, I just got too excited," the woman said before she grabbed Alfred's face to examine him. "Oh, you're too handsome. Vanya, you really picked a looker."

Alfred glanced over toward Ivan who was standing in the doorway with his face entirely red. Heh, it was cute. Alfred's never seen Ivan that shade before unless he was incredibly angry, and then the only time he's ever seen that was when Matthew's team beat the pants off his team.

"Tch, he's just a common out of shape American." Alfred rose his brow as a younger girl maneuvered around Ivan and began taking her jacket off. She looked quite indifferent about everything but when she looked at Alfred she looked at him as if he was some piece of trash. What was with her?

"Natalia, don't be like that," Katyusha reprimanded. "He's just pleasantly plump, da, Alfred?"

"What—?" Alfred couldn't even form a question in time as his family came out to greet the two sisters.

"Oh, you must be Ivan's sisters. Come in, come in!" Mrs. Jones bade as she waved the girls out of the foyer and into the family room. Katyusha quickly followed but Natalia looked reluctant to move so the older wrapped her arm around her and pulled her along.

"What the hell's your sisters' problem?" Alfred suddenly felt his blood begin to boil. Funny, he hasn't felt that in a long while. Must be the baby.

Ivan didn't say a word. He simply stood there looking like the moron Alfred felt him to be.

"I'm not fat," Alfred complained. He hated being called that. Was when he was little so he quickly took to sports to shave down his form, but of course now with the baby . . . "I'm pregnant."

"They don't know that," Ivan finally said.

Alfred blinked at him in confusion before his brows rose. "You haven't told them? !"

Ivan shook his head. He had only glanced at Alfred once. Once! "I only just recently told them about us."

"How recent is recent?" Alfred asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yesterday," Ivan admitted.

Alfred gapped. He couldn't believe his boyfriend. What was so hard in telling his sisters about his pregnant boyfriend? He'd never seen Ivan this self-conscious about anything. As long as Alfred's known him he was captain of a high-ranking U.S. high school hockey team and smartass in their astronomy class who was always aggressive as fuck to him.

"Why didn't you tell them sooner?" Alfred asked. Sure he hadn't told his family about Ivan until he found out he was pregnant but he would have eventually even if he hadn't gotten knocked up.

Ivan buried his nose into his scarf. He still hadn't looked over toward Alfred. "It's complicated. I have a very complex family."

As Alfred was about to find out at the dinner table.

"This is so nice," Katyusha said as Mr. Jones pulled out her chair for her to sit in at the long table laden with various Thanksgiving Day dishes. "Natalia, we'll finally get to have a real American Thanksgiving meal."

"At least nothing's burnt," Natalia muttered from where she sat next to her sister. She honestly looked like she didn't want to be there and Ivan continued looking quite nervous sitting next to them. Alfred couldn't imagine what a meal was like at their home.

Katyusha, the elder, had been very pleasant to speak with and get along around, but it was the youngest of the siblings that everyone became uncomfortable with. Not because they didn't like her per say, but it was that she just didn't like them.

"So, Natalia," Ms. Williams spoke up. She might as well get to know her grandchild's soon-to-be aunts if anything else. "Katyusha tells me you dance ballet."

"Da, what of it?" Natalia asked, eyeing the Canadian with a venom that made everyone around shiver.

"It is a graceful dance," Ms. Williams continued to try to bring out a pleasant conversation with the younger girl who seemed to be around the same age as her eldest son. "It would be a pleasantry to see one of your recitals perhaps?"

"Nyet," Natalia denied, shocking the families.

"Natalia, don't be like that," Katyusha begged before offering a smile to the two families before them. "Forgive her she's just shy. But, da, it would be very nice if you would come to one. She is quite good, right, Vanya?"

"Da," Ivan replied monotonously, stabbing at the mashed potatoes and squash on his filled plate.

"Why thank you for inviting us, I'm certain we'll all make time out of our busy schedules to see her dance," Mrs. Jones said with a smile and nodded, the other family members following suit.

"You all are too kind, really. There is no need to go out of your way," Katyusha said.

"Well the circumstance calls for us to get to know you, you know, in the best interest of the baby and all," Mr. Jones said as he carved the turkey and handed the pieces out to those at the table.

"Baby?" Katyusha asked curiously and right away Alfred caught Ivan pale. What was he thinking not telling his sisters? He knew this subject would be brought up one way or another that day.

"Hasn't your brother told you yet?" Mr. Jones asked, looking toward the two sisters who looked just as lost as anyone.

"Vanya?" Katyusha and Natalia turned to their brother. Ivan dropped his silverware and groaned into the palms of his hands. He didn't have the heart to tell them before and couldn't even do so now. It was odd to see him like this and none were quite certain why he was reacting this way toward his own flesh and blood.

"Your bro knocked my bro up," Amelia finally stated despite her mother wishing she had kept her mouth shut to let Ivan settle this informing of his sisters, that or worded her announcement differently.

A pregnant silence hung in the air for a moment. A long awkward moment.

Katyusha slammed her hands down against the table to propel herself to her feet as she stared wide-eyed at her brother's lover. "You're expecting an mladenets, Alfredka? !"

"If that's Russian for baby then yeah, heh." Alfred suddenly felt just as uneasy as Ivan. For one, both sisters looked ready to pounce on him. One just so managed to beat the other to it.

Katyusha had slid from her chair and dashed over to Alfred to pick him up into a bruising hug, knocking her threatening sister out of the way for Ivan to grab and pull away to keep his boyfriend safe. When Katyusha pulled back she looked down at Alfred's belly, he was slightly showing now.

"Don't be afraid, little one," she said, looking at Alfred with a sweet smile. "If you need care we'll take good care. If you need funds, we will provide. No matter what."

"Thanks for the support," Alfred said with a smile. "But I've got plenty already so join the bandwagon."

She pulled him against her again and held him like a close family member. "Oh you look so young to be going through this."

"It's fine," Alfred said, trying to pull himself from her. She had strong arms.

After some explaining on Ivan's part the two sisters were caught up with what was happening right now. Natalia looked completely murderous, even more so when she noticed Alfred's slight round. Katyusha, now she was cool. She was always happy, nervous just like everyone else, but her intentions were at least pure.

In fact, ever since revealing Alfred's pregnancy the older sister seemed to try her hardest to go over and out to please his family and force her sister to do likewise. Yes she tried too hard when she shouldn't have. Yes she needed to relax most of the time. But it was nice to finally meet Ivan's sisters.

"There's nothing wrong with your family," Alfred whispered as he snuck his hand into Ivan's as they sat in the family room on the couch together and watched their families mingle. Ivan tangled their fingers together and smiled back at his boyfriend. He was glad he accepted them so quickly. So very glad.

Thanksgiving Day had been a good one and the relations between both families strengthened, both holding high hopes for the upcoming little one who would bind their families through blood. Ivan might have come with dread but he was leaving with a sense of calm.

"I'll give you a call when Natalia's recital dates are finalized," Katyusha said as she placed her coat on and took up her purse.

"That would be wonderful," Ms. Williams said as she and the Jones' waved the siblings off.

The moment Ivan opened the door the gust of wind and rush of heavy snow flooded into the foyer and they struggled just to shut the door again.

"The news said we weren't supposed to be getting that until tomorrow," Mrs. Jones complained. "I'm sorry about this."

"No, no, you can't blame the weather," Katyusha said, waving the apologetic woman away.

"We have plenty of guest rooms and the couch turns into a mattress. You are all welcome to stay," Mr. Jones said. "I wouldn't want you to head out in that. It's much too dangerous."

"You're too kind."

And that was how Ivan and his sisters stayed the night at Alfred's place. It was fun because they pulled out the board games and they played throughout the night, laughing with them and dancing with them and joking with them never was so much fun and Alfred really felt like a part of their family and he knew the little one inside him would definitely like them as well and could rest at ease that they weren't warring with the other.

"Hey, hey, Ivan." Alfred shook the other awake from where he slept on the couch mattress. They all had stayed up to near two in the morning just playing games and when exhaustion finally hit all of them Katyusha and Natalia were given the guestrooms and Ivan the sleeper sofa. After about an hour Alfred deemed it safe to creep down the stairs and go to Ivan.

"Mm, what is it, Fedka?" Ivan asked, rubbing his stiff face.

Then Alfred took his hand and smiled at him. "Come with me."

Ivan eyed him warily before following until he was led into the American's dark bedroom. After Alfred shut the door he pushed Ivan onto the bed and then rolled over next to him. Stretching himself out he stared up at his ceiling littered with shapes of glowing stars and planets. "That sleeper sofa had so many broken springs, thought you might want a real mattress."

It was comfortable, Ivan wouldn't lie, but he still felt he shouldn't be there. "Fredka, your parents."

"Are asleep," Alfred informed. He kept his voice low with Ivan's. "It's been a busy past couple of weeks. Quitting football, all those doctor trips and ugh, the vitamins, and then the Holidays with more family time than I'd like to take. I miss you, okay? Is it so wrong to want to lay beside you?"

Ivan smiled sweetly. He shook his head and immediately eased his frame next to Alfred. Pressing closer to him. The moment his hands touch Alfred's torso the boy stiffens.

"What is wrong?" Ivan asked, leaning up on an arm to see over Alfred's face, but quickly the boy jumped up and took a hold of Ivan's hands, pressing them to his belly.

"Feel, feel!" Alfred gasped, a wide smile on his face, his eyes wide and sparkling in amazement. "They're moving!"

Sure enough Ivan felt movement. Four months along and he could feel the child. Maybe it was going to be twins.

Ivan's heart suddenly melted at the feel of it. Alfred guided him to press down more, informing him he wouldn't hurt anything, and now he could feel the shape of the child and its size. The way it moved against his palm amazed the Russian. The baby was so tiny, so fragile, so precious.

Alfred had that big goofy grin on his face while he observed his boyfriend's reaction to the sudden movement. He had just began feeling the baby move about a week ago and hoped the child would move on this day so he could let Ivan feel what was his as well. The tenderness in the Russian's touch and the softness in his eyes made Alfred feel all fuzzy inside, just like the night this little one was conceived. It really was something special, what the two had.

The two remained in tender silence as the small child moved within Alfred and under their father's touch. Ivan then did something Alfred hadn't expected. He leaned over and lifted his shirt to reveal bare skin. He then pressed his lips to the hardening roundness inflating Alfred's abdomen.

"I love you, moy milyy," Ivan whispered against the skin and rubbed his nose against the round affectionately.

Yeah, Ivan was going to make a good father. Alfred didn't know why he had freaked out in the first place. He had nothing to fear.

Alfred had been delighted that the baby decided to continue its movement for a good hour. The two ended up falling asleep in each other's arms, content and happy.

The loud WHACK! of a hockey stick was what it took to wake them up to noise and pain.

"Ah! Mattie? !" Alfred gasped when Ivan rolled off of the bed, gripping his head from where the other brother had struck him.

Matthew looked absolutely furious to have found Alfred and Ivan sharing the same bed when he came in to wake his older brother up for breakfast in the morning. Seriously? It wasn't like they did anything.

"What the hell? !" Alfred's upset matched his brother's, but apparently Matthew decided his was more appropriately justifiable.

"What the hell, Alfred? ! What's he doing in your bed? !" The Canadian screeched. Since when he could get louder in volume than his American brother?

"Sleeping, what else?" Alfred asked as he leaned up on his knees.

"He had your shirt pulled up!" Matthew dejected.

Alfred rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "He was feeling the baby last night. That's all."

"I don't believe you and I don't trust him," Matthew said as he poked his stick toward where Ivan had fallen and was now nursing a nice red mark on his forehead.

"Come on, Mattie. You can't knock up someone who's already pregnant," Alfred reasoned. Fighting always gave him headaches, especially useless fighting.

"So you _were_ doing something else!" Matthew gasped, taking Alfred's statement the wrong way as usual.

"Nyet, I did not touch him except to feel our child," Ivan spoke up, pulling himself back up to his feet. "But—" Suddenly Ivan's dominating aura returned, and that creepy smile Alfred and Matthew hated with equal passion etched its way onto his face. "If you do not believe me then we could settle this."

"That sounds good to me," Matthew said, his eyes narrowed.

Alfred gapped. These two were not seriously going to duke it out in his bedroom were they? !

"I saw a pond out in the back yesterday," Ivan muttered lowly.

"Solid as brick now," Matthew assured.

Ivan nodded. Matthew nodded. Alfred sat there on his bed confused as fuck.

Suddenly he gasped in surprise as Matthew darted out of his room. He could hear his feet pounding down the hall and the door to his room swing open roughly, hitting the wall. When he was about to ask what had happened Ivan too had darted out of Alfred's room, racing down the stairs toward his duffle bag he had kept next to the sleeper sofa.

Alfred simply sat on his bed dumbfounded and lost. He'd been pulled out of his blank winded thoughts by the sight of his brother rushing back down the hall, past his room dressed in full hockey jersey, bright red and white, gloves, and skates in hand as he raced down the stairs.

No way.

Alfred darted out of his bed and slid to the stairs in his socks stopping as he looked down into the family room only to see Ivan had put on his uniform as well—he had packed that thing? !—and now the two teens were fighting to squeeze through the back sliding door first to jump out and race to the frozen pond behind their house.

"Dad . . ." Alfred began. He heard the parent in the kitchen, or maybe dining room, where the rest of the adults were as well. "Dad, stop Mattie!"

Suddenly his father poked his head into view and looked at his eldest curiously. Alfred pointed toward the scene where Ivan and Matthew were struggling to get out of the door first but when Mr. Jones turned to look they had popped outside and already started to race toward the pond. Again, Mr. Jones looked at Alfred quizzically.

"What's the matter, Alfred?" he asked.

Alfred was too panicked to explain. He  
>quickly darted down the stairs and then outside in the freezing snow.<p>

"Alfred Franklin Jones! What are you doing? !" Alfred heard his mother call to him from the window they had slightly cracked in the kitchen. It wasn't long before all the inhabitants of the house rushed toward the back sliding door, stopping before heading out because they weren't properly dressed, and neither was Alfred, which is why they were all beckoning him to come back inside.

"Get inside this instant, young man!" Alfred heard the commanding voice of his father. He looked back and swore he could make out four figures. Amelia he knew was still asleep, she was always Ms. Sleeping Beauty, and then he supposed they had been missing one of Ivan's sisters, but he wasn't too certain, they all looked quite fuzzy from where he stood. Man did his eyesight suck without his glasses.

That moment he took to look back at his family gave his body enough time to slow down and remember where it was at and what it was wearing. Alfred was still in his pjs, his cotton socks were soaked through with icy snow and he felt sick—ugh, morning sickness. Wasn't he over with that already?

Okay, first order of business: head back inside where it's warm. Second: dash back upstairs to puke in his bathroom. Third: get properly dressed for the outside temperatures. And fourth: find a way to stop Ivan and Matthew from beating each other to death with their hockey sticks.

He managed to do all those things and when he finally dashed outside with his father, mother, and Katyusha following they made it to the pond only to see Ivan and Matthew rolling around on the ice, gloves already thrown, and fists swinging.

"Hey! Get off of each other!" Alfred demanded. He too made his way onto ice, but alas he didn't know how to skate nor did he have any skates on and so he almost repeated his semi-coma from a few years back if it hadn't been for his father grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him back onto non-slippery ground. "Dad!" Alfred looked up at his father in plead. "You gotta get 'em to stop!"

The two looked like had played a short game of hockey with their sticks laying around them and a few pucks scattered here and there, but Alfred hadn't taken more than five minutes to finish his business and get dressed to rush outside. Their game hadn't lasted long at all if he had gotten to them in a in the midst of a brawl already.

Matthew was much smaller than Ivan and Alfred knew he could do some serious damage to his baby brother. He and the Russian had gotten in a brawl once after Mr. Kennedy's class. Alfred stood his own of course, but damn could Ivan pack a punch. Alfred knew that even when he and Matthew would have fun wrestling matches—maybe even slightly serious ones—he would always win 'cause he was oldest and just more so stronger. There were rare times Matthew could wipe the floor with Alfred's ass, but that was either by catching him off guard or on the ice.

Matthew was something else entirely on the ice. He was a demon. But so was Ivan.

Before Mr. Jones could even muster a response the two teens pushed away from each other and wobbled back onto their skates. When they pulled apart everyone could see the damage. Ivan was now sporting a swollen red cheek while Matthew had a busted lip his tongue kept darting over to wipe up the blood dripping down his chin.

"You want the rest, Braginski? Here!" Suddenly Matthew had his hockey stick in hand and began slapping pucks directly toward Ivan, not even caring if one or five shot him against the head, and were those things flying.

Ivan brought up his arm to shield himself from the flying disks before he managed to strike some back, one even hit Matthew in the throat. The Canadian took the hit hard, falling down gasping for air.

"MATTHEW!" Alfred's parents gasped. Ms. Williams would have gone out on the ice to embrace her youngest child but Mr. Jones held her back and instead slipped and slid across the ice to throw himself in between the two.

"Stop this right now!" Mr. Jones' authoritarian voice resounded. He glanced back toward Ivan who had nodded in agreement and threw his hockey stick down on the ice roughly before skating over toward the edge where his sister had ran to him and looked him over.

"Vanya," Katyusha complained. "This is not proper. Not at all. How will they like you if you fight with their relatives?"

Ivan didn't say a word. When he glanced over to see where Alfred stood he saw him huddled around his younger brother along with the rest of the family. What surprised him was seeing him reach down and smack the fifteen year old.

"Alfred!" Mr. Jones and Ms. Williams gasped after seeing their eldest reach out and strike his baby brother.

Matthew looked up at Alfred confused but after seeing his upset in his eyes he understood completely.

"Everyone was getting along just FINE before you started it!" Alfred pointed at his brother who was now rubbing his red neck. There was no doubt there would be a bruise and a nasty one at that. "Dammit, Mattie, you're not older. You've got no right to tell me what I can or can't do."

"You've just got no decency, do you?" Matthew was now looking quite upset. He pushed his parents aside and stood up to Alfred. His skates made him look taller than Alfred therefore forcing the older brother to look up at him. But Alfred wasn't afraid of him or his anger. He was just sick of his misplaced rivalry.

"Decency?" Alfred scoffed. "If you honestly think I hooked up with Ivan just to get back at you in some way then you're even dumber than you look." He sighed and shook his head. "Mattie, I don't hate ya, man. You know we're tight. Seriously, it's like what I said before; I found out there were some things Ivan and I had in common and the sparks flew from there."

"But why him, Al?" Matthew asked, his voice rough and raw now. He looked at Alfred with concern and a need to know. Alfred knew it was past grievances that had his brother and the Russian at odds with each other. He would know, because he just got over the same kind of grievances only a few months ago.

When Alfred offered his confused and upset brother a tender smile his eyes turned toward Ivan who had been watching them silently, letting his older sister attempt to rub his bruises better.

"You can't help who you fall in love with," Alfred stated as he looked toward his lover who looked surprised that he had just said such a thing in front of his own family. Alfred offered the older teen a confident smile before he turned back to his brother and frowned at him. "Now, you're going to be an uncle soon and would like it that you don't always get in fights with your nephew, or niece's father. Can you at least do this for me? Please?"

Alfred's puppy dog eyes always got him everything he wanted. He watched his parents immediately give way. Matthew always took a little longer, but he could see his resistance struggling. He wouldn't look him in the eyes, but of course Alfred just followed his gaze wherever it turned.

"Come on, off the ice, no grudges," Alfred pressed as he clapped his hands together and begged his brother. Come on, he was begging, he hardly begged. "That's all I ask. Just this one simple little thing."

He knew that hockey was everything to his brother, but the dude could chill just for once. The situation called for it. Alfred's baby would not grow up between warring relatives. He just wouldn't allow it if he could help it.

"F-Fine," Matthew sighed as he gave in. But that still didn't stop him from shooting a heated glare over toward Ivan. "But this means nothing, Ivan. I'll still kick your ass on the ice!"

"Your dreams amuse me," Ivan retorted. At that Matthew about pushed his parents off of him and skated over toward the Russian with his fist raised.

"Hey, hey! That's enough," Mr. Jones said sternly. "You promised your brother."

"Sorry, dad," Matthew offered in apology but secretly enjoyed watching Ivan's older sister chide and scold her brother.

"Ivan!" Katyusha protested. Her fists were on her hips and she was upset. "Have you no shame?"

"That goes for you too, Ivan," Alfred said, pointing toward his lover. "No more subjects on sports when we're gathered. If that's a call to war here then I don't want it brought up." But of course he knew that hadn't been the only issue as of his recalling earlier. He sighed and turned back to his brother and gave him another smile. "Thanks for having my back, bro, but remember I'm your big brother and, knocked up or not, I can handle myself."

Matthew sighed but nodded. Alfred was glad the issue had been resolved. Even after shoveling out their cars Ivan and his sisters stayed at the Jones' house for dinner and Matthew and Ivan never brought up hockey around the other again. But of course since Ivan and his family, and Alfred and his family needed to get to know the other and become close for the upcoming little one that meant attending recitals, cheering competitions, as well as sports events.

When Matthew had a game against Ivan and his team it couldn't be helped and both families tried to remain neutral in their cheering. It wasn't easy but they somehow managed, though ever since their scuffle after Thanksgiving on that frozen pond both families had noticed Matthew especially becoming more violent on the ice, not necessarily toward Ivan but to his opponents in general and Mr. Jones and Ms. Williams wondered what they had borne into the world.


	4. The Stars are bright in The Winter

While the subject of sports—scratch that, the subject of hockey—was a no-no to speak about when the families had gathered it was an entirely different story when Matthew had a game against fellow Canadian teams and Ivan was allowed to attend the viewing with the rest of the family. His taunts from the bleachers perturbed Matthew and that was when his ice devil came out of him. It won games for him, but greatly disturbed his family.

Of course what amazed Alfred the most was seeing Matthew watch one of Ivan's games. One game in particular was against an American team that was highly ranked. While Ivan and Matthew's teams were rivals simply because they lived so close to the other, this team was the utter arch nemesis of Ivan's team in saying that they dominated them on the ice _all_ of the time. In fact, the last time they beat them was in, like, twenty-five years.

It was the evening of December 30th and Ivan's team just so happened to be facing off against said team, and it was gruesome.

Ivan groaned as he was slammed against the rail guard. He was a big man, bigger than most average American teenagers even if they were his own age, but when he had a coordinated attack by two hockey players at the same time his frame was going to hit wherever they pushed. He was exhausted and with the wind already knocked out of him from the slam he just opted to fall down on the ice and catch what breath he could.

Alfred felt his gut churn—or was that the baby?—at the sight of Ivan getting so rough-housed. He's never seen the Russian pushed around so much. Matthew had lately become a devil on the ice just about as bad as Ivan, but they always matched wits on the ice, both sides losing and wining equally, but this was just sad. The opposing team skated circles around Ivan's hockey team and, second period in, they were demolishing.

While Ivan's team was good the majority relied on Ivan's brutality and skill to win their games, but this other team were team players. Alfred's played football and baseball a majority of his life, he knows. He knew Ivan and his team could do the same, but they were frightened of their opponents, too much bad blood remained between them and the long line of defeats hung in the air like a doomed prophecy.

His gut churned again when he watched the timer reach zero and the buzzer sound off the end of the second period. With a heavy heart he watched Ivan skate over toward the benches where he and his team looked already too defeated. Should they even attempt to play another period? Man, did they look sad.

Reaching down, Alfred placed his hand on his swelling abdomen. Perhaps it wasn't his gut churning after all, but the baby feeling the upset of their daddy. Yeah, Alfred could feel Ivan's upset too which in turn upset him.

But then again, from this poor display of a game arose something in Alfred's brother that he'd never think he'd witness. Alfred's entire family was there, sitting next to Ivan's sisters who were also in attendance, right next to Ivan's team box. Matthew, who had remained quiet for the entire two periods, finally stood up when Ivan's team took their seats. Without a word he silently marched up toward the box and reached over, pouring his cup of hot chocolate all over captain Braginski.

Alfred gapped at the sight. He was surprised Matthew had done something like that. Especially when Ivan was already in a foul mood as is.

The Russian jumped up and turned around. His eyes wide and dark, his fist raised; he looked ready for a fight. Even when he noticed it had been the Canadian who had poured the steaming liquid onto him his stance didn't falter. Alfred had stood up; ready to intercede but before he could even force his unsure body to move he heard Matthew speak up—

"If Alfred's having a boy I'm going to teach him how to play hockey—hell, even if it's a girl I will. There's no way I'd let their father teach them since he's shit at the sport."

Even from Alfred's seat the sixteen year old could see Ivan's eyes widen and the Russian bore his teeth, grinding them dangerously. Boy was Matthew lucky there was a guard dividing the two or else the Canadian might be missing a few more teeth and Ivan penalized for the remainder of the game for fighting a viewer.

"You won't even so much as give skates to my child unless I say so!" Ivan bit back, slamming his fist against the guard, making the plastic wall shake, but the Canadian was unfazed and unamused. "I will teach them. Not you!"

"Then you best show me some goddamn skills that kid can be proud of!" Matthew threatened just in time for the third period to ring in.

Alfred slowly sat back down as Matthew returned and took his seat next to him. He sat there with his arms crossed and lilac eyes hard-fixed on the game played out. Alfred didn't know who to watch more, Ivan as he struggled to get his team to cooperate together to beat their opponents who lead by a huge point gap, or Matthew who focused every ounce of his attention on the game at hand, like the rest of his relatives seated next to him didn't even exist.

He was about to open his mouth and say something but the sound of screeching cheers deafened his ears and when he turned back toward the rink he noticed Ivan's team members throwing their hands in the air in victory. They managed to score their first goal!

Alfred's eyes sparkled and he smiled for the first time during the play of the game. He clapped his hands together and then turned to his brother. Matthew was smiling at him and nodded. God, thank goodness he and Ivan weren't biting each other's heads off anymore.

And that was that. It had been a close game but Ivan managed to land the last goal needed to win. It was amazing. The crowd cheered, the coach looked completely taken aback and Ivan's team embraced him, but for the first time since joining the team Ivan thanked them all and assured them they had won this just as much as he.

"They won! They won! They won!" Katyusha cheered. She had been so excited that she turned and grabbed her sister, pulling her close and bouncing up and down.

"Da, now let me go!" Natalia gasped, trying to pull away so she wasn't suffocated by her sister's large breasts.

"Yes!" Matthew cheered, fist-pumping the air. "I knew he could do it. God, took him forever."

Alfred had been so excited as he watched Ivan's school race onto the ice to congratulate the team that he too ran down the stairs and onto the ice. He'd gotten a little better standing on it, not so much skating, but sliding. He slid right into that hunk of a captain and threw his arms around his neck.

Ivan looked surprised to see his pregnant boyfriend on the ice with the rest of his team and school but it was pleasant as Alfred pulled him down and connected their lips. With a smile and a hand placed gently over Alfred's round Ivan accepted the kiss and held his lover tightly while the school photographers went around taking pictures of the historical win, the lights of the cameras flashing around even when Ivan had closed his eyes to feel Alfred's embrace and kiss.

The principle had taken the team out and all that wanted to join in the celebration. It had been one hell of a night, just too memorable and there was no doubt that the team could pull this off again. Their shot at the cup was clearer now and Alfred enjoyed seeing everyone's enthusiasm.

It was so pleasant seeing Ivan smile; actually smile in front of the others. Before he'd only offer smirks of tease and danger, but now he was happy, genuinely happy and not afraid to let the others see it.

It was insanely attractive and now everyone else could see what had drawn Alfred to Ivan all those months ago. He wasn't that bad of a guy and now, perhaps now he'd make more friends than trembling subordinates. Alfred retreated and wondered when Ivan would notice his absence by his side.

It had been a while; perhaps an hour as the coach congratulated the team as well as the principle and the other parents and relatives of the team. It was nice to see Ivan interacting well with them. Maybe now Ivan would feel a part of them and begin practicing with the rest of the team instead of in isolation. While Alfred enjoyed watching said Russian during his solo practices and their alone time he would rather feel more at ease in knowing that his boyfriend practiced with friends.

"You've been avoiding me the entire night. Care to explain why?" Ivan finally had made his way over toward Alfred after realizing his lover's absence.

Alfred just smiled up at him gently. "I've been right here," Alfred offered. "You look like you're making friends."

"It was a good day," Ivan said with a nod, sitting himself down at the small table in the corner of the dining area.

"Was a good game," Alfred reminded and then pumped his fist into Ivan's shoulder. "You did great."

"Thank-you, Alfred." The way Ivan was smiling at Alfred made the younger want to kiss him. He did. He reached over the table and pulled the big guy to him, connecting their lips and letting the thrill of the historic school win excite him.

The vibes had transferred to Ivan and soon the restaurant they were celebrating at became too hot for the both of them. With a jingling dangle of Ivan's care keys Alfred found himself in the shotgun, kissing Ivan like mad and Ivan kissing him back. Alfred didn't even know how they had managed to make it back to his place because he was certain Ivan hadn't taken his eyes or lips off of him.

"God I want to suck you right now," Alfred groaned out as Ivan's lips pulled away from his and he stared into those darkening eyes of the Russian's.

They were in Ivan's bedroom now; his sisters were still at the restaurant conversing and celebrating with everyone else. The entire house was dark, but the two didn't need any lights to see the contours of the other's face or the curves of their body outlined before them.

Ivan smirked. Stepping backwards he let the backs of his knees touch the bed before sitting down, already slipping his belt off and unzipping his pants.

"Another craving, Fredka?" Ivan teased, rubbing his member to stiffen it further.

Alfred played along. He rubbed his swell in long slow motions and licked his lips. His eyes darkened a hue. "You could say that."

Ivan's cock twitched at the display and a deep throated moan escaped his mouth, sending its shivering quake right through his lover.

Alfred was quick to kneel down and lean his head into Ivan's crotch. He took a hold of the Russian's penis the moment Ivan had pulled it out. Giving it a few squeezing strokes Alfred then looked up at his observing boyfriend.

"You deserve a little reward for kicking that team's ass, big boy," Alfred said lowly. Giving Ivan a wink he leaned down and popped the head into his mouth.

Ivan's hands tangled fingers into Alfred's beautiful golden locks. He let out a shuttering sigh and closed his eyes. God, it's been months since Alfred's given his boyfriend a blowjob and thanks to the excess summer sex they had that year the American's gotten quite good with that mouth. By now he knew exactly how to make Ivan squirm.

Inch by inch Alfred took Ivan into his mouth but before he even deep-throated him he pulled back and then began to nibble on the foreskin, pulling the patch of skin between his teeth and then letting go, afterwards he dipped his head under to place kisses and sucks along the underside of the phallus, traveling down toward Ivan's testicles.

Ivan tensed, he could feel Alfred's hot breath on his balls but this turned out to be a tease as Alfred pulled back once more and took him into his mouth again, deep-throating him instantly. Ivan let out a gasp and accidentally thrust into the boy's throat. He fumbled through apologies but all of that was nonsense after realizing Alfred was smiling up at him, encouraging him to do it again.

That was right; Alfred's _very_ good at deep-throating now.

Cupping the back of Alfred's head Ivan began thrusting into his lover's mouth. When Alfred hummed, oh the Russian almost lost it and spilt himself in the American's mouth. Ivan hadn't realized how sexually frustrated he'd been until his dick rested in the warm, wet cavern of Alfred's mouth.

Ever since Alfred had announced his pregnancy it'd been: meet the parents, get to know the family, introduce his own family, meet the doctors going to birth the child, participate in doctor visits, keep up good grades, practice sports, win said sporting games, and arrange a schedule when the child arrives. One thing right after the other. It was exhausting and now that the two were alone and this close both realized that all they really wanted to do was to touch the other.

"Fredka!" Ivan gasped upon feeling Alfred expertly tilt his head and give him a particularly hard suck. The moment his balls tapped against Alfred's chin Ivan felt the younger teen reach up and fondle the testis. This pushed him far too close and far too fast.

Alfred then grabbed a hold of Ivan's hips to steady him and then began vigorously sucking, bobbing his head back and forth. This would most likely spell the end for Ivan's resilience. He could already feel Alfred widening his mouth for the swelling of his cock.

"F-Fredka, stop," Ivan gasped out. His fingers pulled at Alfred's hair but it was a weak attempt. When Alfred continued he then took a chunk of his hair and pulled back harshly, his long thick shaft slipping out of a pink throat and passed pearly white teeth. "Alfred!" Ivan barked and pulled away. He looked upset while Alfred looked confused. "You can't swallow it. Not with the baby."

Realization flashed in Alfred's eyes and he smiled softly. "Right, sorry about that. Guess I got carried away." Alfred couldn't help himself though. He loved it when Ivan came undone and more so when Ivan came down his throat. Mmm, there was nothing like a stomach full of warm sperm, Ivan's sperm.

Ivan smiled down at him softly. The hands that once threatened to rip out his hair was now combing through the locks affectionately and guiding Alfred closer by pushing at the base of his skull so that he would rise and meet his lips. Alfred did and the two shared a sweet and tender kiss before Ivan pulled away.

"Let me return the favor," Ivan whispered against Alfred's lips before pulling him up by his arms and switching their positions where Ivan was now kneeling next to the bed and Alfred sitting atop it, spreading his legs for Ivan to rub the prominent bulge revealed.

Alfred couldn't take it any longer. He didn't care if he sounded like a whore, sitting there and moaning before Ivan even touched him. Ivan said nothing to it; he simply chuckled and then leaned in and kissed Alfred's round.

The American gasped at feeling lips upon his swollen abdomen. His eyes fluttered open and watched Ivan kiss him a few more times there as his hands dipped between his thighs, spreading them further and teasing the bulge in his jeans by running a feathery touching finger up the side of it.

"Ivan, please!" Alfred gasped out, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. He needed this. God he needed this so bad!

Alfred jumped when he felt Ivan squeeze him hard. His thighs clamped together quickly to keep that strong hand there. "Oh, oooh!" Alfred moaned out especially when he felt Ivan begin to rub him. Dammit, his pants were getting too tight. Fucking too tight.

Ivan kissed him once again on that round belly of his before he lowered himself. Forcing Alfred's legs apart again and unzipping his fly. Alfred sighed out in relief when Ivan took his hard rod out of his boxer-briefs. He gave him another good squeeze before he lifted his shirt a bit so Alfred's sticky juices didn't ruin that nice navy blue turtleneck he was wearing.

There was a gasp. This gasp pulled Alfred from his thoughts because after said gasp that squeezing hand released him, and that hot breath trailing up his abdomen pulled away. Opening his eyes Alfred looked down to see Ivan staring at his belly. What? It was like he hadn't seen a pregnant man before.

Glancing down Alfred curiously looked at what Ivan was observing. After a short click Alfred blinked in understanding.

"What is this, Fredka?" Ivan asked as he reached up and touched the bound violet ribbon wrapped around Alfred's swell.

Alfred blushed and shimmied away from Ivan, raising his shirt to view the ribbon himself. He thought he had done a nice job with getting it around himself and just look at that perfect bow! Suddenly a shyness came upon him and he glanced away from his boyfriend, his face heating more so than it had before.

"Well, um, today's your birthday and all, and, ahem, it-it was supposed to be a present of some sorts since-since I didn't know what to get you . . ." Alfred trailed off before he sighed. "Look, I forgot you had a game today so I scrapped the whole thing. I just forgot to take this thing off." Alfred reached down and made to unravel the ribbon but was surprised to find Ivan's hand stopping his action quickly.

"Wait . . . you were . . .?" The full question was in Ivan's eyes and Alfred only blushed more. Why was he acting like a schoolgirl now of all times? It wasn't like the prospect of sex was an awkward conversation between the two—at least it shouldn't be anymore.

"I, er, talked with Dr. Monroe about s—about _it_, he said it's perfectly safe for the kid if I wanted to—if we wanted to . . . give it . . . a . . . try." Alfred's words died in volume as he went along, but Ivan had heard them all.

Ivan touched the ribbon and tugged on it lightly. "This is . . . for me?"

"Yeah," Alfred nodded, feeling his burning face cool a little bit by Ivan's softness. "Happy birthday, Ivan."

That was right; it was Ivan's birthday wasn't it? He'd never really thought about the day of his birth too much for multiple reasons. It just wasn't important. Even when Ivan and his sisters moved to America they didn't take up too many American traditions like the extravagant celebration of one's birthday. It was just another day, Ivan had practices if not games or studies to get caught up on, but now that he had been dating Alfred the boy had actually wanted to celebrate the day of his birth and give him a present.

It was very nice.

"Spasibo, Alfredka." Ivan leaned down and kissed him upon his protruding bellybutton before trailing kisses up the round toward Alfred's recently sensitive nipples. Ivan pulled Alfred's shirt up as he went and when he latched onto a nipple Alfred jerked against him. He felt the younger throw his head back while those skinny fingers dove into his hair.

"Ah, Ivan," Alfred gasped out in ecstasy. Ivan smiled; glad the nipples were sensitive in a pleasurable type of way.

Pulling back he pulled off Alfred's shirt; once the article of clothing was tossed the American wrapped his bare arms around Ivan's neck and held him close. Ivan enjoyed the hug but he had to pull away. Looking down he made sure Alfred watched him "open" his present.

Pinching the lapels of the bow Ivan pulled and slowly the ribbon was loosened and slid down Alfred's sides. Ivan's hand then rubbed up and down the round in gentle circles before pressing down a little harder to push Alfred to lay down upon his back. He did so and looked up at his lover with sparkling sapphire eyes and spread legs, already ready for him. And Ivan was ready for him as well, had been for a long time.

There was some doubt about this, of course. Alfred was carrying precious cargo inside him, and Ivan's destination happened to be near the same place it was carried. He honestly didn't want to do anything that would harm their child. Yes, Alfred had assured him that his doctor eased his mind about the subject, but Alfred could also shift into a habitual liar at times.

But Ivan needed this. He needed to feel connected to Alfred again. Sending love from afar was not enough. He needed to touch Alfred, to kiss him, to hold him, to enter him. To become one with him.

Ivan leaned over toward the nightstand next to his bed. He reached into the drawer where he kept something reserved solely for Alfred and his visits. He pulled the glass bottle out of the drawer and held it in his palm. It was the expensive kind because Alfred enjoyed this brand the most and Ivan wouldn't spend on anything less than the best when concerning his American boyfriend.

Giving it a shake Ivan frowned. Damn it, since when had he neglected to go and buy a refill? He's usually always prepared. Ivan let out a disappointed sigh. Well, it had been some months since they were last _together_-together so it was no wonder it slipped his mind.

"Dorogoy, I'm afraid I don't have enough," Ivan sadly informed. What to do? What to do?

"What?" Alfred sounded upset as well. "Let me see." Ivan didn't know when or even where Alfred's glasses had gone—probably on the island in the kitchen where Ivan had set his car keys—but the poor boy had such horrible sight that he had to bring the bottle so close to his face to see its contents in the darkness of the room. Ivan watched him shake it once to listen to the lubricant swish inside before sighing himself. He looked lost in thought before he looked toward Ivan, his eyes giving every intention of his. "We could try this dry."

"Nyet, I will not hurt you, especially not when you're expecting," Ivan said.

Alfred then whined. "You're ruining the day, Ivan!"

That was Alfred F. Jones for you, always so persistent and always getting what he wanted. Ivan smiled and snickered at the action before nodding his head. He took the bottle back into his grasp and then set it atop the nightstand for soon-to-be use.

Shifting his body Ivan scooted himself down, pulling with him Alfred's jeans and undergarments. Once off Ivan looped each arm around those tanned thighs. His violet eyes glanced up to see Alfred staring down at him with wide and curious eyes. It was funny; the blonde's eyesight was horrible and he had to bring a book or carton close to read the letters laid out on it, but he saw two things perfectly clear—and that was the stars above and Ivan Braginski.

Ivan figured he'd save what was left of the lubricant to lather his cock when it came time to enter, but as for preparing Alfred's entrance with lubricant, well, he could think of one thing. It'd have to do.

The Russian leaned down and flicked his tongue out at Alfred's testicles. Alfred bucked, his hips leaving the bed once, but they rose once again as his knees locked and his heels dug into the mattress as Ivan lapped at his hole, even sticking his tongue inside.

"H-Holy FUCK!" Alfred nearly screamed, his knuckles shoving into his mouth to have some sort of decency in volume. Fucking fuck! Ivan was giving him a rim job. Holy shit that was . . . that was HOT!

"Looks like you've gotten even more sensitive here," Ivan mentioned as he pulled away slightly to poke at the twitching hole, its pink ring of muscle all too familiar to the Russian nineteen year old. He wiggled in one finger up to the first knuckle. Even though Alfred was far from a virgin at this point in their relationship it would still take a while until he'd be ready—that's what happens when they neglected their weekly sexscapade.

So Ivan leaned down again and shoved his tongue inside Alfred. The boy jumped again. Ivan could hear his muffled moans, every single one going straight to his groin.

Pressing his lips down, Ivan began to suck. The younger teen bucked against him again but Ivan simply continued lathering up the American's hole.

"Fuck, Ivan, fuck!" Alfred gasped out. He was panting now, one hand covering his hot face while the other reached down to stroke his dick. He was so glad he wasn't immensely huge right now; jacking off wasn't yet too difficult for the pregnant boy.

Alfred began to roll his hips into Ivan's mouth. Strangled moans choked out of him like barks. His body had never felt so hot before. He felt like he'd melt from the inside, the pleasure Ivan was giving him was that good.

"Don't stop, God don't stop!" Alfred wheezed out, shaking his head to and fro before his golden bangs flung into his eyes. It was a shame Ivan's tongue wasn't longer, wasn't thicker because God did Alfred want that thing deeper.

Alfred squeezed himself harder and began pumping himself faster. He was so close, so fucking close he could taste the vibes of his orgasm on the tip of his tongue. He didn't care if he sounded like a wanton bitch right now, because that's how he felt and he'd let Ivan know by moaning out every pleasurable tingle he felt.

Right then, right when he was on the brink of breaking down and sailing on cloud nine Ivan stopped. He pulled away and brought that tongue of his back into his mouth. Alfred was so very disappointed and moaned out in saddening loss.

Alfred had to blink away tears in his eyes to clear his vision. He'd cried tears of joy he felt that amazing, but no, his dick of a boyfriend had to stop before he reached his all-time high. Sucking in his lips Alfred puffed his cheeks in frustration. He was very upset.

When he felt the first finger slip into him he hadn't moved. He hadn't said anything either to make sure Ivan knew how upset he was.

"I'll make you feel better, Fredka," came Ivan's voice as if he could sense Alfred's upset—probably could, those two had a weird supernatural sense of connectivity since they came to good terms.

Ivan's fingers didn't make him feel "better," no matter how deep they pressed or how wide they stretched him. They were cold stiff fingers. They weren't warm, they weren't slick, and they definitely didn't have any pulse to throb in time with Alfred's clenching walls.

It was good riddance when Ivan took them out of him. He felt Ivan lean back from him for a little while before he felt the larger teen crawl back over him, now bare as Alfred laying underneath him, hovering over him as his hand reached down and caressed his puffed cheeks. Ivan chuckled.

"It looks like I may have spoiled you," Ivan realized with humor before he gripped Alfred's chin, pulling his face toward him to give him a firm kiss just as his arm wrapped around one thigh to hold it against his hip.

Ivan held himself against Alfred's lips as he pressed in. The Russian had used the last of the lubricant to slick himself. The entering was slightly rough with just saliva for Alfred's preparation lubricant. Ivan had to thrust at least three times before he managed to fit his entirety inside the younger teen.

Alfred groaned with a shudder when Ivan was finally settled into him. He sucked in a sharp breath of air before opening his eyes and looking up at his lover. He offered him a mock smile.

"Thought you said you'd make me feel better," Alfred remarked snidely. He delighted in Ivan's frown but that pleasure slowly slipped away when the Russian's lips began curling, the devil came out again.

"What?" Ivan sounded so phony concerned it would make you sick. "You mean you don't like the feel of my cock—" he rolled his hips into Alfred, the American sucking in a squeak at the action. "—_inside_ you?" Ivan rolled his hips again and pressed his chest to Alfred's, their nipples rubbing against each other in slow circular friction. "The way it _stretches_ you—" Ivan's hands rubbed down Alfred's sides before settling on his hands on the younger's hips where he twisted slightly to stretch the American with his own penis. "How _thick_, how _hot_ it is."

Alfred's eyes were half-lidded, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth and off of his chin. God, did anyone ever tell Ivan how fucking sexy his voice was? The more husky he got the lower the tone he used and the lower the tone the thicker the accent and the thicker the accent the more Russian words would begin to slip out—

"Mmm, chuvstvovat' menya podergivaniye vnutri vas."

Alfred threw his head back and let out a deep moan. He could feel Ivan's breath hovering over his neck, every now and then he could even sense when those lips of his would draw close, and when they would smile.

"Hm, Amerikanskiy lyubit russkiy," Ivan whispered against Alfred's red hot ear before tacking the cartilage in his mouth and biting and pulling. He began moving inside Alfred after a couple of minutes to let Alfred get comfortable. The American hadn't said anything per say about discomfort but Ivan of all knew the little boy was always wanting to suck up pain no matter how much it hurt him, and Ivan wouldn't have that, not when he was carrying their child.

Ivan hadn't had sex with Alfred since he revealed his pregnancy. He didn't know if it was because of the fear of somehow damaging the life inside the American, or that he just simply hadn't had the time. Whatever it was didn't matter because it had been months since the two had been together like this. It felt more than wonderful and so relieving that the two sighed in unison.

One thing that was bugging the Russian was Alfred's swell. He didn't know whether to it was a problem or simply something uncommon to get used to, like an acquire of taste. Before, Ivan could press their chests and abdomens together, but now he could feel the bump against his own stomach, forcing him to bend himself more so over Alfred.

Even though he was touching Alfred he didn't feel like he was _close_ enough. He wanted to hold them so close where they could feel their hearts thumping against each other, but he couldn't. It wasn't Alfred's fault. It wasn't Ivan's fault. It was the baby's. That was right, they were blaming the baby.

So Ivan leaned forward, his forehead pressing against Alfred's as he pushed deeper, making the boy moan against his mouth. Then he flipped. Alfred had to blink a few times before he realized he was now right-side up.

He looked down at Ivan in confusion for a moment. Sitting there straddling Ivan's hips. He looked like he had no idea where he was.

Ivan decided to bring him back to the matter at hand. His hands on his hips squeezed, his right hand rubbed back toward Alfred's ass and taking a cheek in palm. Alfred shivered, the shiver made the American's insides squeeze Ivan which in turn caused the Russian to moan lowly.

Ivan bucked up into him to coax Alfred to move. Alfred nodded and placed his hands on Ivan's shoulders. He lifted himself up and then slid back down onto Ivan's shaft. It was a slow process and both moaned at the feel.

The pregnancy made Alfred so much more sensitive that just that one slide he swore he felt the entire outline of Ivan's dick. It felt good, too good. The nerves inside him were on high alert and whenever the tingling racked up his body he could taste it, it was so strange but so very welcome.

Alfred was a good rider, always was, even his first time. Even in his state now he never failed to impress.

"Fredka," Ivan sighed out as he leaned his head back into the pillows and strewn sheets underneath. His eyes closed, a pleased smile on his lips. He looked satisfied.

Alfred reached out and touched his lover's chest. He felt Ivan arch up into him, that smile on his lips looking ever more pleased with the contact. Then he leaned forward. He knew it'd be a little difficult with his swell but he managed and when his raised bellybutton rubbed against Ivan's abs Alfred leaned down and kissed Ivan's neck. He knew it was his most sensitive area on his body and that the Russian loved it when he'd suck. So Alfred did.

One of Ivan's hands reached up and dug fingers into Alfred's hair while the other squeezed his hip harder and guided it along its rhythm to let him buck just a little harder into him. Alfred moaned at the harder thrust and rolled his hips down into it, encouraging Ivan to ram him harder. The next thrust was harder than the last and the one after that one harder than the previous.

Alfred groaned hot breath over Ivan's neck and looked up at his lover's face. Ivan was looking at him now. His violet eyes darker than ever. He looked like he wanted to ravish Alfred and the American didn't know what was stopping him.

If Ivan wouldn't . . .

Alfred pushed himself back up and took hold of Ivan's hands, holding them to his hips as he thrust himself down onto the Russian's cock. He could feel it within him. It was harder than ever and rubbing all the right spo—

"Fuck! Yes!" Alfred threw his head back the moment he rolled his hips down where his prostrate scraped against the head of Ivan's dick. Perfect shot. Now that he knew the angle Alfred memorized it and pistoned himself, lined directly.

When Alfred fell down onto the shaft he spread his legs for better and deeper penetration, and when he rose he squeezed his thighs against Ivan's hips and clenched his anal muscles to give the cock he rode on a good squeezing tease before shoving it back into his warm body. He had Ivan moaning like a bitch at this point. The Russian looked so dazed he couldn't speak properly.

Oh yeah, after months of neglected sex Alfred F. Jones still could make his lover mewl. AND he was fucking popping. Who could say that? Come on, who?

When Alfred rolled his hips to feel that rod bang his prostrate the shiver running up his spine echoed throughout his entire body and made him tremble. It nearly made him jump out of his own skin it was that amazing. It churned his insides that . . . wait . . . hold on . . .

Alfred's eyes widened and his lips parted. The baby was moving. Not just shifting or anything, but flat out moving as in they might move around for a couple of minutes.

Oh, with the sensations he was receiving from Ivan's deliciously thick, long, and hot cock coupled with the movements of the child, Alfred just shaken right out of his body.

"Ah, ah!" Alfred couldn't say a word. He moaned at the feel before his hands fumbled to wrap around Ivan's wrists and bring them to his belly.

Ivan had been currently thrusting his hips up into Alfred's heat like there was no tomorrow but when he felt Alfred move his hands to touch his round belly he froze at the feel of something bumping against his palms. He opened his eyes and looked toward Alfred who was smiling at him, panting in excitement before darting his eyes down to his belly where their child within him moved and rubbed against daddy's hands.

Alfred closed his eyes and leaned his head back a bit. He opened his mouth and moaned. There was a smile on his lips as he rolled his hips downward again and continued to feel it all—the baby, Ivan's cock, his orgasm coming; everything.

When he began moving Ivan's eyes rolled and his head plopped back down onto the mattress. His mind was clouded so quickly and his hips quick to begin bucking up into his lover that he'd just given way to insanity. God did he love the feel of Alfred squeezing him to completion, only he could—only Alfred.

So the two continued their climb to their high. Alfred leaned against Ivan's hands and rose himself and then dropped himself on the Russian's manhood. Ivan only moaned and bucked, his rhythm getting faster and faster leaving Alfred to be careful to keep up.

Now Alfred enjoyed riding out orgasms but this time he was exhausted. His lack of libido forced him slack when his cock shot out its load onto Ivan's torso and abdomen. He let out an exhausted wheeze, nearly falling on top of Ivan who had just finished as well, coating his insides white with his semen. There was so much of it that it was leaking out of Alfred, he could feel it dripping down his thighs.

But Ivan was good to him and caught him, easing him down onto the bed to lay on his side. Alfred thanked him for it and then rewarded him with a tender kiss while Ivan's left hand combed his sweaty bangs out of his face to see those brighter-than-stars eyes of his. His other hand continued to rest on Alfred's belly, the child still moving.

"We woke the baby," Ivan muttered playfully and Alfred giggled with him.

Alfred opened his mouth to say something possibly witty but his phone's ringer blasted off in the silent room. He leaned up and turned in search for it. Like he could find it without his glasses or a light.

"I'll get it," Ivan said, patting Alfred to stay lain while he jumped out of bed and took the task to find Alfred's phone. He had it in his jeans so if Ivan could find the place he'd tossed the article of clothing then he could reach the cellar device.

Usually both would let the phone go. It wasn't the first time they'd been interrupted by the call from a friend or family member, but since Alfred was carrying they never knew if it was the doctor or one of Alfred's family members calling in concerns for the child.

"Got it." Ivan handed the phone to Alfred who made to sit up but hissed at the pain in his backside. Ivan raised a brow seeing the boy bite his lip to lesson the pain contorting his face and a smile replaced that scrunching frown. Like Alfred was sated in the feel of the pain he had egged on.

Answering the phone Alfred realized it was his mother. "Yeah," he answered with, mouthing the word "mom" to Ivan so he knew who it was he was talking to. "No, just left early . . . yeah, with Ivan . . ." Ivan watched the boy roll his eyes and sigh. "No, mom, we're not doing anything." Alfred hadn't lied. They weren't. They just finished having sex and now weren't doing much of anything at the moment. "I know, I know, but can I stay with Ivan and his sisters this week? I want to spend New Year's with them . . . yeah, yeah, I know . . . well, Ivan can take me."

"Take you where?" Ivan asked curiously.

Pulling the phone away Alfred informed, "I've got a doctor's appointment coming up on the 3rd. You'll take me, right?"

"Oh, da, da." Ivan had never really gone with Alfred to an appointment alone. It would be interesting.

"Ivan says he will," Alfred informed his mother on the other end of the line. After a short pause he broke out in a wide grin. "Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!" Alfred praised and then kissed the phone's screen. "You're the best, mom! I'll be back before ya know it."

With that Alfred stayed New Year's over at Ivan's house and got to know his sisters a little bit better.


	5. Supernovas are both Beautiful and Tragic

Natalia . . . yeah, she might be a lost cause, but at least Alfred _tried_ to befriend her. Luckily for him she had dance practice as well as swimming lessons and so was out of his, and Ivan's, hair for a majority of the days. He was now starting to understand just why Ivan was so uneasy around his sisters.

Katyusha was cool and Alfred liked her a whole lot. He didn't mind getting near-suffocated by her womanly bosom if she so wished to hug him a little too hard because, well, that would be an awesome way to go for a guy; getting smothered to death by boobs, wicked sweet! This frame of mind did seem to disturb Ivan however and so the Russian had taken him to the rink to get away from such a threat.

"Why are we here, Ivan?" Alfred asked from the bench he was resting on, subconsciously rubbing his swell—something he began doing for a couple of weeks now and Ivan wondered if he even realized this. "Your next game's January 18th. You don't need to start practicing now do you?"

Ivan said nothing as he skated around the rink with his arms behind his back. He wasn't even wearing his jersey and Alfred wondered if the older was just wanting a late-night skate on the ice. It was weird because this time was usually his practice time.

When Ivan skated up toward Alfred and stopped his smile widened when he revealed what he had been holding behind his back. It was a pair of skates.

"Huh?"

"You're going to learn how to ice skate," Ivan informed, stepping into the benching area and kneeling down to begin taking off Alfred's snow boots and then lacing up the skates.

"What?" Alfred gawked. "But I don't—" Before he could complain further that the ice was his brother's natural habitat and not his Ivan had finished tying the skates and then took his hand and guided him out onto the ice.

Alfred gasped and pulled Ivan close for something to cling onto and steady himself. He was wobbly on the blades but at least he was upright.

"Relax," Ivan ordered as he turned him around and pressed his chest to Alfred's back, his arms wrapping around his torso. "It's easier to glide over the ice when so."

Again, Alfred's horrible at ice skating, always had been. He liked it when his feet had cleats on them, dug into the earth, and steadying his form. This sailing around was too fast and with this much loss of control it frightened Alfred.

"I can't!" Alfred gasped out when Ivan let go of him and skated around him to watch him go. His arms flailed and he knew he was seconds away from falling over and cracking his skull again. "I-Ivan, I gonna fall! I'm gonna—!"

Just like he predicted Alfred found his balance shot and the blades buckling under him as he slipped forward. His eyes wide in horror over landing on his front, where the baby was and all, he braced himself for the impact and prayed his arms were long enough to stretch the hurt of the ice from his abdomen. All his worry faded when Ivan skated toward him and caught him.

Alfred's heart beat so fast he couldn't catch his breath. He could feel the blood returning back to his drained face and it returned tenfold by how angry he was at Ivan for putting him into a situation like this.

"I could have fallen on the baby!" Alfred complained. He grabbed a hold of Ivan tighter this time as he wobbled back upright again.

"I wouldn't let any harm come to you or our child," Ivan assured. He'd been more calm than Alfred.

"I want to go back to the bench," Alfred whined. "Please, not now, I don't want to learn this when I'm this vulnerable."

Ivan understood, but he wouldn't let Alfred get away that easy. Once more he skated the both of them along and when he let go of Alfred again the boy froze up, his face going pale again as he sailed across the rink.

"Ivan! Come on, man!" Alfred begged but Ivan was back to him again, holding him and guiding him around.

"I won't leave you," Ivan assured. "I just want you to learn how to skate so when the little one comes we can both teach the child."

Alfred smiled at the mental image. He and Ivan holding their little bundle of joy by each hand as he or she slid across the ice, giggling, smiling. That looked like heaven.

"Fine, as long as I get to teach them baseball," Alfred spoke up; always the bargaining one.

"Da, that is fine with me," Ivan said with a chuckle.

The two skated around for about two—maybe three hours. Alfred wasn't the best at skating, still not too good at it yet but at least he was trying to get the hang of it. Ivan was always there by his side to catch him if ever he fell and to help guide him along the rink. He knew that it would take time to get used to it, but he was confidant Alfred would know how to skate properly soon.

The two left the rink with smiles on their faces and high hopes. When they exited the facility they froze at the sight of fresh snow.

"More snow," Ivan observed. "Must have fallen when we were inside."

"No duh," Alfred teased before he ran off and gathered up a large wad of it before crunching it into a ball and throwing it at his boyfriend. Oh! Right smack in the face. Yeah, that's right; Alfred's million-dollar-arm was still swingin'!

Ivan wiped his face of the cold substance before he smiled at his boyfriend's playfulness. He certainly didn't have to worry about being the only one to get down on hands and knees to play with the upcoming little one. Ivan believed Alfred would probably do the majority of playing with them.

Ivan threw one back at Alfred, his aim wasn't as good as Alfred's but it did hit him in the leg. Alfred gave a dramatic gasp and held onto his leg like he'd been lethally shot. With a pathetic imitation of a dying moan Alfred collapsed onto his back into the fresh snow all around.

Ivan laughed at the sight and came over toward the boy who had been gurgling out a crude sound as if he'd been killed. Leaning over Ivan put on a curious face. "Oh, did I kill it?"

Alfred then smiled and opened an eye. "Nope!" He exclaimed before reaching forward and pulling Ivan down. He had managed to flip him over him with a push of his legs and now Ivan lay in the snow vertical from where Alfred lay. He lay there dazed for a moment before smiling and laughing.

Alfred laughed along with him and when there laughter died down it was because of the bright stars above them. All was quiet that night and the stars shown so beautifully.

"Hey, look, there's Perseus . . . oh, and there's Mars!" Alfred's eyes were bright and his smile wide. He had such good eyesight in catching these spectacles that it amazed Ivan to no end. He'd make a good astronaut.

Ivan nodded in agreement, finding the constellation and planet after Alfred had pointed them out. It was the best; stargazing with Alfred. Ivan knew that they would do this when their child arrived into the world. No doubt about that.

The two had laid there in silence, breathing in cold air and scanning the celestial heavens above for a long time. In the end it was Alfred who broke the silence.

"Got the appointment tomorrow," Alfred said.

"Da, I know," Ivan said. He already told Alfred he'd take him so he didn't know why the boy was bringing this up when he assured him this.

"Funny really, because now that I think about it . . . with six months coming up and all . . . I never really thought about naming them," Alfred informed.

Ivan blinked. He was right and neither had he.

There was another silence once more, probably from both thinking about the important matter at hand.

"I was thinking about Bob," Alfred spoke up.

"Nyet, I will not name my son 'Bob'," Ivan declined.

"Oh, come on, it's an All-American name," Alfred explained. "And Jenifer for a girl, we'll call her 'Jeanie' of course."

"Nyet, I don't like either name," Ivan said.

"But it sounds so catchy," Alfred explained. "Bod Dylan Jones and Jeanie Abigail Jones. Simple names."

Ivan didn't mind simple names. He minded those names.

"Your selection is greatly lacking, Fredka. I am sorry for your limited set of thoughts."

Alfred gapped and leaned up, turning to look at Ivan who laid above him in the snow. "You got any better ideas, genius?"

"I like Alexei or Anya," Ivan suggested only to see Alfred make a face at the suggested titles.

"No thanks, man, they sound too Russian."

Ivan frowned at what Alfred had said. "What's wrong with Russian? Their father just so happens to be that nationality."

"So? He or she's going to be born in America so should have American names," Alfred reasoned. It made sense, Ivan would agree, but he would NOT agree to those preposterous names Alfred had suggested earlier. The poor child would be bullied for the rest of their life no doubt.

"Fine, fine, how about Alan Tj Jones?" Alfred asked. "Billy Hewitt Jones, Jessica Marlene Jones, Britney Sylvia Jones, Elizabeth Macintosh Jones?"

The American's choice of names was interesting, but Ivan could tell he was just throwing names together. How like Alfred.

"Some of the names are fine, I guess," Ivan admitted.

Alfred smiled. "Really? Which ones?"

"And then some I don't like," Ivan continued.

Alfred frowned again. "Yeah? Which ones, huh?"

"The Jones part," Ivan said.

Alfred blinked in confusion and furrowed his brow. "What's wrong with my last name?"

"Nothing's wrong with your last name, but as for the child's last name, I want it to be Braginski," Ivan said.

"Why?" Alfred asked. "I'm the one birthing them. I get rights to their name first."

"What if you were a Braginski as well?"

Alfred froze. Had . . . had Ivan just proposed to him?

"Ha, ha, you're funny," Alfred said letting out an uneasy laugh just in case it was something else than what it really was.

"I am serious, Alfred," Ivan said as he reached up and touched the boy's reddening cheeks. "If you're a Braginski will you let the child have my surname?"

Alfred was at a loss for words. His face was getting extremely hot and all of that cold air around them only made it worse. He didn't know what to blame.

"You know you'd have to marry me first, dumbass!" Alfred said, his face beet-red and his blue eyes refusing to look Ivan in the eyes.

Ivan smiled softly up at him before he too leaned up on his arms and turned to look directly at Alfred. "Da, I know."

Alfred gapped again. Ivan really was wanting to marry him.

"I . . . I'm sixteen. I can't marry you!" Alfred reasoned to settle his thumping heart in his chest.

"If I get permission from your parents I can," Ivan stated. "Will you marry me, Alfred F. Jones?"

"What, just so our kid can have your surname?" Alfred asked, sitting back and crossing his arms. Always Mr. Defiant. "You're not getting your way that easy."

Ivan laughed. "Are you too afraid?"

"No!" Alfred bit back. "I just know your ploy is all."

"There is no ploy, Fredka," Ivan assured. "I love you and I want to marry you. I would have eventually asked you, probably when you graduated from high school but the situation at hand calls for me to ask sooner."

"R-Really?" Alfred's eyes widened. "You were gonna . . . gonna ask to marry me when I graduated?" Ivan loved him that much? But how when they've only come to care for each other in the recent months? Well, Alfred loved him as well, he just . . .

"Da," Ivan nodded. "That is . . . if you don't mind taking on a name that sounds too 'Russian'."

Alfred smiled and felt tears sting his eyes. Dammit, why was he crying? Men don't cry. It was the baby, had to be the baby.

"Of course I don't mind, you jerk!" Alfred exclaimed as he threw his arms around the older teen. He rubbed his hot face into Ivan's scarf and relaxed in his embrace. "The answer's yes, Ivan. Always has been and always will."

Ivan was glad. So very glad. He'd never felt so accomplished in his life than right then and there the very moment Alfred said yes to his marriage proposal.

He had yet to talk to Alfred's parents about this and wondered if they'd give their consent, but as long as he had Alfred's he felt he didn't need any other's.

Suddenly, Alfred pulled away and looked Ivan dead in the eyes, his gaze hard and serious. "But you have to marry me before the baby comes, because if you don't and I'm still a Jones by the time I give birth I'm naming him or her however I want."

"Da, da, deal," Ivan said with a chuckle. He watched Alfred relax and then push close to hug him again. He was glad Alfred wanted to be married quick and in part wanted to take on the name of Braginski, Ivan's name.

When Ivan cupped Alfred's face he watched those beautiful features soften for him and that darkening flush looked ever attractive on his bride-to-be's face. Alfred's mouth was open and waiting as Ivan guided him close and kissed him deeply. Alfred wrapped his arms around Ivan's neck and leaned into him, taking in all of the love he gave.

They made love that night when they returned home. Alfred was glad Ivan had received the master bedroom in the house and the other two rooms belonging to his sisters were down the hall. It would be kind of awkward with a sister sleeping on the other side of the wall as Ivan entered him and kissed and sucked him.

He was usually the loud one, not so much when Ivan was gentle like this but he was still noticeable and he really didn't feel like having Natalia come into Ivan's room in the middle of their intimate time and try to slit his throat or something of the other. Of course those thoughts were only minimal the moment Ivan caressed his bare body and stroked him tightly, filling him and making him ache with satisfaction.

The next morning the two had slept until 1 in the afternoon. It was Saturday so Katyusha and Natalia were still at home. It was a little awkward coming down for breakf—lunch but Katyusha's eyes twinkled with polite understanding while Natalia refused to look at Alfred and the way she ate her lunch disturbed the American, as if that broccoli stood a chance against her stabbing fork. Yikes.

That day was spent mostly relaxing about the house. It was nice because Ivan and his sisters didn't pass the time by watching TV shows or movies like most American families. Their time was spent talking or cooking up some treats. It was a fun way to pass the time.

It had been a nice couple of days spent at Ivan's house with him and his sisters but as time came for the doctor's appointment Ivan put all of Alfred's belongings in his car and opened the door for him to get in. After the appointment he'd be taking him home back to his father's.

"It was a pleasure hosting you, Fredka," Katyusha said with a pleasant smile. "I hope you would return soon."

"Me too," Alfred said and when he looked at Ivan he blushed at the thought of marrying into said family soon. It was such a nice thought. "Not even Nat can keep me away, right, Ms. Belarus." Alfred waved over toward the grouchy sister who stood grumbling in the doorway. She heard his name for her and rolled her eyes before heading back into the house.

They had played a game for a day in the house where everyone picked a nickname to call each other and you lost the game if you were called and didn't respond to the name. Natalia had lost and so the loser had to serve everyone snacks and drinks and stay and watch a movie with the rest of the family. It was fun. Alfred was called Mr. America, Ivan Mr. Russia, and Katyusha Ms. Ukraine. Too fun, a game Alfred would love to play with his family.

"Vanya, you take good care of him," Katyusha said as she looked toward Ivan who was now making his way around the car to get into the driver's seat. Her brother nodded.

"I will, sestra," Ivan promised. "I would never let anything befall my fiancé."

With that he revved up the engine and drove off. Turning around Alfred watched the older of the siblings stand there in the driveway confused before she smiled big and jumped up in excitement. He could have sworn he heard her scream in glee before dashing inside, no doubt going to inform her sister.

Ivan smiled at the display; he had watched it all in the rearview mirror. He was glad his sister was excited and the reason for telling her the moment he drove off was to avoid Natalia's death glares and threats. It would take a few hours before he'd return home and hopefully after that the younger would have settled down from the shock of his engagement.

"I saw what you did there," Alfred muttered out his snicker. Ivan knew a long time ago, before they were even dating, that the American was smarter than he appeared so it was no surprise that he had caught onto Ivan's tactical handling of the informing.

"You have lived in my household for four days. That is plenty of time to know Natalia would likely chase you around with a butcher knife. I would rather deal with her on my own while you're miles away," Ivan replied.

The Russian had a point but that didn't mean Alfred would stop making fun of him and tease him about being afraid of his sisters.

Half way through the drive Alfred dug into his backpack and pulled out his notebook and pen. "Alright, big guy, let's get this done before we hit the doctor's."

Ivan glanced at him quizzically. "What are you doing?"

"I was thinking about finding out the kid's gender today," Alfred informed with a casual shrug. "So I need a name we both can agree on."

"I don't want to know the gender," Ivan stated. Reaching over he turned down the volume of the radio knowing that he and Alfred were ready to get into deep conversation. "I'll be pleasantly surprised when the child is born."

"Traditionalist," Alfred muttered. "But come on, we still need to settle on a name. One for if it's a boy and one for if it's a girl."

"Very well," Ivan said with a nod.

The two spent the next hour suggesting names. An entire hour of shooting off names was tiring and especially frustrating when neither would agree on any one. So when they pulled up to the hospital the two weren't on speaking terms.

There was frustrated silence, slamming car doors, and stomps between the two. But all of that melted away when Alfred laid down and took a sonogram. The sound of the child's heartbeat cut through their silence and tugged on their hearts. Then, the image appeared and Ivan could not stop himself from touching the screen that was currently showing the shape and size of his child.

"My child," Ivan whispered out before he turned toward his lover with a wide smile. "Fredka, look how big they're getting."

Alfred's hard eyes had softened. Where an annoyed frown had been now there was a tender loving smile. The sight of his growing child and of Ivan's affectionate love for the unborn faded all Alfred's past upset with the Russian.

"Yeah, I can see that," Alfred agreed. The baby was a big one; no doubt it would be after both parents had been large children at birth.

"I can tell you the gender if you'd like," Dr. Monroe said, turning to the expecting parents.

"I do not want to know," Ivan said, raising his hands and shaking his head in decline.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Forget it, Mr. Monroe. Have you pinpointed the due date?"

"I have," the man said with a nod before picking up a file with newly printed sheets for the young male-mother. He leaned over and handed the folder to Alfred who took it and opened it to see everything prepared for him. "You should be expecting the child around March 30th."

"Definitely have to take off school for that," Alfred joked around. "Anything else, Doc?"

"No, you're good to go. Everything is as perfect as it'll ever be," he said with a final clap of his hands.

"I'll go get the car warmed up," Ivan said, offering Alfred a kiss before digging into his pockets and taking out his keys.

When Ivan was gone and Alfred had finished cleaning the gel off of his stomach and putting his sweater back on he turned back to his doctor who had finished cleaning his own equipment and was ready to turn off the lights.

"Can I know the gender?"

Dr. Monroe looked at him curiously. "I thought Ivan didn't want to know."

"I won't tell him," Alfred assured. "I would just like to settle on a name. We had a fight coming here and it was stupid. If I know if it's a boy or a girl then that's one less argument I have to have with him."

The older man smiled and then nodded before he turned toward the counter and picked up the pictures of the child that detailed its genitals. Walking over toward Alfred he handed them to him for him to see.

When Alfred informed Ivan he knew, the Russian wasn't too pleased. Alfred's dad's place was about thirty minutes away but time seemed to tick by slowly thanks to the upset atmosphere in the silent car.

"You don't have to be such an ass to me about this," Alfred complained, crossing his arms with a huff.

"What is the point of knowing?" Ivan asked. "If it's a boy, we'll have a son, if it's a girl, we'll have a daughter. Do you not like surprises?"

"I did it so we'd stop fighting over the name, okay?" Alfred admitted.

Ivan glanced over toward Alfred for a moment. "So then you have decided."

"I did actually," Alfred said.

Ivan scoffed, clutching the steering wheel a little tighter. "You will not let me have a say."

Instead of biting back Alfred laid his head against Ivan's shoulder, surprising the Russian over the sentimental display.

"You'll like the name, Ivan," Alfred promised in contentment.

"Is it an American name?" Ivan asked, that upset frown still on his face.

"It's neither Russian _nor_ American, so let it go," Alfred muttered out. He wanted their fight done and over.

Ivan blinked in confusion. What other name did the American know besides the ones native to his own country and that of Ivan's birthplace?

"Is it Canadian?"

"Oh my God, Ivan!" Alfred gapped, pulling himself away to sit upright and look at Ivan with narrowed eyes of disbelief. "Why would I name my kid a Canadian name?"

Ivan shrugged. A smile etched its way onto his face just at the funny look Alfred was giving him. Glancing over he watched Alfred's stern face begin to buckle, his lips puckering into a smile. When Ivan chuckled, so did Alfred.

"Stop trying to guess," Alfred said as he shifted back into his seat.

He opened the folder to look at the pictures of his child. In three months he'd find out who the child took after more; what color hair, what hue of eyes, the structure of face, and the build of body. Alfred hoped the kid looked a lot like Ivan.

"If it makes you feel any better I was 'pleasantly surprised' by the gender upon finding out," Alfred stated, closing the folder and then rubbing his belly affectionately. "I had a feeling it was going to be this, but I was still 'pleasantly surprised'."

Ivan only rolled his eyes. "You still found out early. I will bet you were a devil with birthday and Christmas presents."

"Sure was," Alfred admitted without an ounce of shame.

"You're horrible," Ivan said with a sad sigh while he flicked on the windshield wipers as the snow began to fall and blanket all around them.

"You're just jealous of my spy skills," Alfred said with a flex of his arm muscles. "I'd even climb through the vent just to get into mom and dad's closet. Well, until I got too big—hey! Stop that!"

Alfred gripped the dashboard for dear life as Ivan purposely swerved to stop his rambling. Ivan laughed at Alfred's frightened face.

"That's not funny!" Alfred complained, now trying to swallow down his heart. "We could slide right off the road. It's snowing!"

"Da, it is," Ivan played.

"Then be a little more responsible, sheesh!" Alfred leaned back in his seat and clenched his seatbelt close.

"I am a good driver, Alfred," Ivan assured. Alfred and the child were too precious to be reckless around. He was simply playing, wanting to startle Alfred. He had, so Ivan's had his fun for the night.

"I know," Alfred admitted, offering his fiancé a smile in trust that he'd keep them safe. "But that doesn't mean everyone else is."

"I'm sorry if I upset you," Ivan eventually apologized. Alfred would be home within fifteen minutes and he didn't want to leave the American upset with him.

"It's cool," Alfred replied as he tucked the doctor's folder into his backpack. He had so much junk jammed in it that it was hard to even zip it up. With a sigh Alfred settled for the files sticking half-way out. "Whatever," he muttered. When his eyes darted back out to the road ahead they widened. "Ivan . . ." Alfred's heart stopped in fright over seeing a truck coming their way. It was sliding, heading into their lane. It was either that or fall off the road down the hill and into the trees.

"I see it," Ivan said quickly.

He knew they would collide if he didn't maneuver around the larger vehicle. The major problem with that was that Ivan would have to toss control of the car. If he hit his brakes they would slide headfirst into the oncoming truck, and if Ivan swerved—which he had no other choice but to do—then he'd lose control of the steering and likely wind up off the road. It was the only option in that short amount of time to think on what to do.

"Hang on." Ivan's knuckles were white but his breathing even as he turned the wheel. The car slid and by a hair missed the truck that had eventually come to a halt in the other lane a few feet behind them. Luckily there had been no one behind Ivan to have gotten hit by the close call.

Ivan kept his foot firmly press on the brake pedal. He and Alfred sat frozen in their seats. Eventually the car came to a halt in the other lane.

Out of the corner of Ivan's eye he could see Alfred's face perfectly. He was still, his eyes still as wide as saucers and his left arm pulling tightly on his seatbelt. His right hand lay atop Ivan's hand.

The Russian blinked. He looked down to see he had taken his right hand off of the steering wheel and placed it upon Alfred's swollen belly. In the slide Alfred's hand had gripped Ivan's atop his swell, both fearing for their child's safety.

Finally, Alfred moved after seconds of a mini heart attack, His eyes went down to his belly first to make sure his little one was safe and secure. When he noticed Ivan's hand he turned to the Russian.

All too soon Ivan's eyes had darted behind Alfred and now the American watched as Ivan was encased in a bright light. Alfred knew those were the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. He had thought he saw another behind the out-of-control truck but he hadn't been certain. Well, it looks like he'd seen right.

Ivan hadn't even been looking at him when the vehicle collided and the last thing Alfred remembered were those wide amethyst eyes shining like the Milky Way from the bright and too close headlights.

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

". . . Ivan . . ."

"Ivan, come on, man . . ."

"Ivan!"

The Russian startled into consciousness. He didn't feel good. Not at all. His left eye stung and his chest felt heavy. It was hard to breathe and he couldn't take in deep breaths, his breathing now limited to shallow breaths.

When his dazed and spinning vision cleared to manageable he saw Alfred. Thank God he was okay.

Ivan had watched the second vehicle collide with them, it even struck Alfred's side, but it was fine now because the American was kneeling before him, a frightened look of concern on his face. Nothing looked amiss on him save . . .

"Thank God," Alfred sighed out in relief, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them. He offered Ivan no smile, in fact, he looked quite sad now. "Promise me you'll take care of him."

Ivan didn't know what Alfred was talking about. He really wasn't focusing on what Alfred was saying after finding him to be unharmed. Right then he was trying to find feeling in his legs and move out of whatever was crushing him to the ground.

"Ivan."

This time Ivan's eyes met Alfred's and when he saw the regret in them he halted. It was strange to see such an emotion come from Alfred. The American never felt any like such to make him look like this.

"Promise me, okay?"

Slowly Ivan nodded. He felt he should agree with whatever Alfred had to say after the scare.

Then, Ivan watched Alfred close his eyes and smile with relief. It was nice to finally see him smile after such a frightful event. "I'll go get help," Alfred said, and just like that he was gone from Ivan.

Now Ivan could feel it; he felt the small snowflakes fluttering inside through the broken windshield to rest on his too cold skin, he felt the coldness of the night air outside, the pressing crush on his chest, and the way his legs burned from twisting and splintering. He wanted to cry he hurt so much, but the flashing red and blue lights made him drowsy and his vision spun again.

Ivan closed his eyes and counted for a few seconds before opening them again, his vision having cleared for a moment. Looking around he could distinctively make out the shape of an ambulance, even a fire engine. Firemen were running around and the multiple paramedics remained around the ambulance. Ivan could see all of their faces clearly, it was odd, it really was, and the strangest thing was that they all looked horrified.

Then, Ivan's gaze fixated on a female paramedic. She had just come out of the ambulance, ushering two men behind her with a cart. They laid it down and now she was instructing the men to do something with what she was pointing down at . . .

Ivan's gaze left the female paramedic and now stayed on to what she had been pointing to.

It was covered; a gray blanket draped over top, the snow underneath warm and red.

Ivan's breath caught in his throat and he choked, beginning to cough and with each hack his lungs and chest ached immensely. Tears stung his eyes and blurred his vision. No, he needed to see this, to know for sure.

Ivan blinked as much as it took to see it again. To see the dead body of a once living human being. The blanket only covered the face, torso, abdomen, and thighs. But Ivan could see enough to know.

There was a hand laying cold and unmoving in the snow underneath the blanket. The color of the sweater wrapped around the wrist he knew too well.

No . . .

Ivan even recognized the jeans and sneakers.

No . . .

Then . . . oh God, the swell around the abdomen, bumping the blanket where it should have lain flat against a taut stomach.

"Nyet!" Ivan choked out. He felt something warm come out of his mouth and immediately he began coughing harder. It was so very hard to breathe now, even with shallow breaths. "Alfred!"

His attention was only on Alfred. He watched as that woman ordered the men to take up the body too cold and too limp for hope.

"Nyet!" Ivan cried out again, this time his small, weak, and hoarse voice was heard and now the paramedics turned toward him.

"Tom! Tom, get over here!"

Just as they placed Alfred's body into the ambulance a light was flashed in Ivan's eyes. Four paramedics and a few firemen were crowding him. No, they needed to move. They were taking Alfred away and he didn't know where. Ivan couldn't see. He couldn't see anything with them so close to him!

"God, he's alive!"

"I checked him. He'd been dead too."

"Doesn't matter, just get him out."

"It's not going to be easy. The passenger's side collapsed into his side."

"He's bleeding. We've got to hurry!"

They were touching him now. They were warming him, giving his oxygen, and attempting to get him out of the metal encasing his mangled body.

"Nyet, let me see Alfred . . . Alfred!" Ivan cried. The tears wouldn't stop and no matter how his throat dried and burned he wouldn't stop trying to tell those around him of his desperate need for the boy.

"What's he saying?"

"He a foreigner?"

"Sounds Russian."

They weren't listening to him no matter how much he begged. He needed to know, to know if Alfred was safe or if he . . .

"Alright, get ready. I can't guarantee this won't hurt him."

Ivan felt hands upon him, steadying him as the groaning crunch of metal bent and cracked. He hurt. The pressure on his chest worsened. His vision spun when he felt the breaking of his bones.

Finally, finally he succumbed to the numbing darkness despite how hard he had tried to remain conscious to look for Alfred who had disappeared from him.

* * *

><p><span><strong>DOTR<strong>**: Because AngstyIvan is the best!**

**Here's to the readers who know me! Cheers! Until next chapter. (~3~)/**


	6. Stardust

It was the ache that woke him. The more conscious the worse he felt. It was hard to breathe and if he tried moving his left wrist a horrible freezing pain would shoot up his arm and into his spine that would then send the pain down his burning legs. Those two limbs hurt so much that he dared not move them.

When his vision cleared his found himself staring up at flat ceiling lights. His hearing cleared next. The beeps of monitors were first to ring into his sensitive ear drums while the faint sounds of rolling carts outside hummed later, nauseating him and the moment his throat tightened to squelch an episode his vision doubled.

He swallowed what bile he could because his neck wouldn't turn from the stiffening ache as well as the brace wrapped securely around it to still movement and hold his jaw upward. Every body movement hurt save for his right arm.

He felt his fingers and when they gripped cotton sheets he began to figure out just where he was. He tried inhaling a deeper breath to steady the dizziness in his head but the oxygen caught in his throat and he grit his teeth. His ribs crunched and burned, deeper breaths were out of the question. Shallow it was.

Raising his right arm he made to touch his chest. It hurt less when he pressed less. The touch was easier down on his abdomen and so he rested his too heavy arm over it, his palm subconsciously rubbing his belly, one of the only parts of his body that didn't hurt too much.

Closing his eyes he laid there for a moment and decided to see how long he could deal with the awakening pain. A soft grumble rumbled through his stomach and fluttered against his hand. He was hungry. How would he eat like this?

Wait . . .

His palm tingled at the moving sensation in memory.

The baby . . .

And . . .

"Alfred!" Ivan choked on his raw throat. His coughing inflamed his lungs and as they expanded to take in air to steady themselves the Russian's broken ribs were pushed against and the pain in his chest made his heart beat faster and faster until the monitors caught the pick-up and alerted the medical staff.

"He's conscious! Get the doctor!"

Ivan felt hands upon him, pushing him back flat on the bed, but he resisted their push even against the wretched ache of his body. He grabbed one of the nurses' wrists with his right hand and squeezed tightly to make him look at him.

"Where is Alfred? I want to see him. He was with me!" Ivan choked out. He blinked past the tears welling from the dryness of his throat and found some understanding flash through the male nurse's green eyes.

"Laurinaitis, secure his right arm," a fellow nurse told him.

"Oh, uh, yes ma'am."

Ivan watched as the nurses pushed his right arm down and began strapping it against the bed frame. "Nyet, nyet, please, I need to see him!" Ivan begged. He tried pulling his arm away from the nurses hold but he was still so weak and it wasn't long before they managed to secure him to the bed.

"I called his sisters," a nurse said, this one came in with a doctor. "They're on their way now."

"Listen to me, please!" Ivan cried out. Why wouldn't they listen to him? How come they couldn't understand?

"Still not speaking English?" the doctor observed before he sighed. After checking all of the vitals and ignoring Ivan's pleas and struggles he made to leave. Looking at the head nurse he told her, "He's stable, but no doubt in pain. If he's causing you—or himself—trouble then it'd be best to put him down."

The head nurse nodded before she turned her gaze to one of the nurses still trying to make Ivan stop shaking.

"Toris, you're Russian, right?"

The nurse holding down Ivan's right arm looked at her. "No, ma'am, Lithuanian, but I know a little Russian." He then looked back down at Ivan who had now began to cry through his useless begs.

"Can you communicate with him?" she asked as her brow furrowed at Ivan's sorry state. "Knocking him out is the last resort. I'd really like for him to settle down on his own."

"I haven't really spoken the language in a long time, but I will try," Toris said. The head nurse smiled and nodded before she left.

"I'm counting on you, Laurinaitis." With that she left the other nurses in charge to calm the Russian teen down.

Toris looked at Ivan with pity and opened his mouth. He was hesitant at first, searching for the correct words before he spoke in the nineteen-year-old's native language. "Calm down, calm down." His accent was thick but Ivan had caught the Russian words. Immediately he looked at the nurse, his eyes wide.

"Please!" Ivan began again. "I have to see him. I have to!"

Toris furrowed his brow. He had caught a few words but the rest flew right over his head. Ivan had said them so fast that he just stood there looking at him in confusion.

"Come on, Toris, let's just put him down," a fellow nurse said as she touched her coworker's arm. "He's hurting himself."

After a moment of thought Toris turned to her and said, "Let me take him to him."

"What? Are you crazy? Look at his condition," another nurse said, he tapped against Ivan's casts lightly as if to show Toris how insane his idea of transporting this particular patient was.

All in all it was a bad idea, condition-wise, but Toris wasn't looking at the hurt of Ivan's body but the hurt of his heart. He could understand his Russian words slightly and even what he could cut deep in his heart. He was aching and he needed a sense of comfort.

"I believe it will help calm him down," Toris said and then turned toward Ivan. "I know you can't understand him but listen to him. Can't you hear how sad he is?"

The other nurses opened their ears and caught the utterly depressed tone in those Russian words and the crack in his voice as he choked out bitter cries drowning in tears. He looked helpless as is and the more battered the more the nurses felt for him. And he was a sad sight as is.

"It's not a good idea," the female nurse said with reasoning on her shoulders. "His mental state is fragile as is. You might push him too far if he sees him."

"I will take full responsibility if that happens," Toris swore.

After a moment of thought the senior nurse sighed. "Fine, but I warned you."

The nurses had administered heavy pain killers in preparation to move him without further incident. The side effect was extreme nausea and for a good half hour the nurses sat Ivan up and held a bucket close just in case, but he surprised them all by swallowing hard and keeping his balance. The next challenge was getting him into a wheelchair.

Ivan bit his tongue nearly through when they hefted him off of the bed and down onto the chair. His limbs cried out in agony from the move, more so when they were propped up and shuttering over the tiled floor as the wheelchair moved along. But at least Ivan was no longer struggling, surprising all of the nurses.

"Sorry."

Ivan glanced up at the nurse pushing his wheelchair. The one who could speak a bit of his language.

"For Alfred." Toris' Russian was choppy like that of a three-year-old, but it was understandable and Ivan remained quiet. His sinking heart nearly stopped at hearing the nurse's apology. That must mean . . .

Toris pushed Ivan into an elevator along with the other nurses holding his IV and standing by.

"He didn't hurt."

The more Toris spoke the more Ivan was pushed back in time to that night—however long ago that was. His palm still tingled with the feel of Alfred's swell when he placed it upon the round just a minute before they were struck. The moment the second vehicle collided with them was still fresh in Ivan's mind and the blinding sight of their headlights. He felt Alfred push into him as the vehicle crumbled into his side.

Alfred had been against him as their car was shoved off road and tipped into the trees. Ivan had lost his breath when the airbags exploded and then his awareness when his car slammed against the tree line downhill. And when he came to Alfred was gone. He was gone.

"You luck to live," Toris said as he pushed Ivan out of the elevator. "I was told you were said dead at sight. But luck."

Ivan didn't care if the nurse's words were a little hard to understand. There was a small sense of comfort in hearing someone speak to him in his language. Someone who knew what happened and confided with him in Russian seemed at lot easier to understand despite the accented wording.

One thing did still bother Ivan, however. There were plenty of hints but never a statement. So, Ivan hardened his heart the best he could when he asked—

"Is Alfred dead?"

Did he not survive? Was he declared dead on sight as well? Was he lost in the accident? Was Toris taking him to the morgue to see his lifeless body? God, was he gone? Just tell him. Ivan could take it. He could take the truth!

There was a pause while they turned down toward a quiet hall. "I'm sorry," Toris said to him.

That's not the answer Ivan had asked for. He wanted a straight answer.

"Is he dead? !" Ivan asked louder in demand.

Toris stopped and then knelt down before the Russian. They met gazes. Ivan was already crying and the tears weren't from the soreness of his raw throat.

Toris tried speaking Russian to him, but sighed and cursed his lack of expertise in the language. So, he smiled gently and asked, "Speak English, da?"

Ivan could hardly see the nurse knelt before him now. His vision was too blurred and when it cleared it was only a matter of seconds before the liquid stung his eyes and shaped the forms around him in a blurring motion again. Inhaling a shaking breath, Ivan attempted to steady himself and his trembling voice.

"Da."

English was a little easier than Russian for the young nurse.

"He died upon impact," Toris informed, the words shattering what was left of Ivan's heart. "Yes, to answer your question, Alfred F. Jones is dead." Toris hated saying it like this but Ivan demanded it and he felt he should answer as straightly as he was asked to.

It was hard to see Ivan cry. As a nurse it always was and some hardened their hearts quickly to this kind of sight, but not Toris, he still connected to his patients in a way because he wanted for them to trust him and to know he truly was sorry for their loss and cared for their emotions just as much as anyone else.

Now Ivan was reduced to sniffling trembles from the neck brace limiting his movement as well as the casts on his limbs. The only good arm, Ivan's right—the one Toris had been told was draped over the deceased Alfred's round abdomen when the responders arrived and pulled the American out of the wreckage—reached up and pressed scabbed knuckles to thick-tearing eyes.

Every observing nurse could tell that Ivan had loved Alfred greatly and would no doubt mourn his too early loss for years to come.

"Please, quiet," a nurse said as she came up to the group, her voice low to keep the noise in the dimly lit hall to a minimum.

Toris stood up and turned to the nurse. "Ms. Héderváry," he addressed the older nurse. Lowering his voice as she informed he leaned in. "We've come to take him to him."

"Braginski?" she asked, looking down at the sad Russian for a moment. Toris nodded slowly and then sympathy took over the nurse's features. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Please, Ms. Héderváry, I stand by my decision. I believe seeing him will offer some form of closure for him."

Again the female nurse looked at the distraught nineteen-year-old. She sighed. She looked reluctant if only for the sake of Ivan's state. "I don't know, Toris. This might hurt worse than heal. It may be like reliving the feeling that what happened wasn't a dream at all."

"I'll take him back to his room if it gets bad," Toris swore. "Please, Elizabeta, he needs this."

After a moment of thought the nurse nodded and guided them along. "Come this way."

When they entered the designated room Elizabeta informed them all remain quiet while she flicked on the low lights. She turned and frowned. "The poor thing," she whispered. Then she turned to Ivan whose eyes were looking at what she was revealing to him. It didn't look like he was comprehending what he was seeing at all. She figured as much.

"Mr. Braginski," she said as she came up to the Russian and knelt down to look eye-level with him out of respect. She reached out and gently touched his casted arm. "I am so very sorry for your loss and if you wish to leave you may, but . . ." She stood up and backed away to show him the incubator tagged with his surname on it. "Two lives had survived that crash."

The tears stopped when Ivan's eyes fell on the plastic box. He felt Toris push him as close as he could get. Now he could see the name printed on the label, stuck on the side of the case. Inside . . . inside he couldn't believe . . . so little . . . so small . . .

"He's hanging in there," Elizabeta said. She tried her best to offer Ivan an encouraging smile, but it ended sadder than she would have liked. She'd been head overseer and so had grown quite attached. She wiped her eyes at the sight of Ivan's features beholding this miracle. She didn't know if she should inform him of the struggles and the possibility of death. This reason was why she didn't want Ivan to see—to hope.

When the paramedics brought him into Elizabeta and her team she couldn't believe it, but she swore to do whatever she could to ensure that the survival count remained at two lives.

Ivan was at a loss for words. His right hand acted on its own accord and touched the container. He was upset over the barrier refusing to let him touch, but even so Ivan felt that if he did this too early bud would wither away.

"He's a fighter, like his daddy," Elizabeta said with a teary-eyed smile.

Like his daddy. Ivan was looking at his child, his son. It couldn't be. The last Ivan saw him he was still inside . . . his mother.

How? How did he survive and not Alfred?

Ivan pulled his hand away from the incubator as if it had burned him. He felt sobs quaking out of his body and his chest ached at the hard breaths.

"Alright, Toris, I think you should take him away," Elizabeta said. The nurses were quick to heed her words and pull Ivan away.

"Wait!" Ivan gasped out, he made sure to mind his language this time.

They stopped and curiously watched Ivan lean close to the incubator and set his eyes once more on the premature infant. The child was so tiny. Ivan felt he could hold him in the palm of his hand he looked that small.

There was a sock on his head; it came close to slipping over his closed eyes. There were wires and tubes attached to him everywhere; his nose, his hands, his small chest. Ivan's heart clenched and gut wrenched at the sight. The child was covered in the damn things and as Ivan's eyes traveled down the too small and so very red body he noticed one of those tiny feet wrapped up, stained blood barely visible on it. It looks like he hadn't come out completely unscathed from the crash either.

Now that Ivan got a better look he saw the boy crying. He couldn't hear a thing but he could see him moving as he laid in that box on his belly, struggling just to push himself up on the angled platform. His tiny hands opened and clenched and his skinny legs kicked. He looked so frustrated and so very alone in his larger-than-life struggle.

Why would they make him cry like this? Why would they make him exert himself? He's so young, so little, so weak.

Elizabeta was quick to catch this and put her hand into the gloved slot and began petting the baby's back gently. The baby still cried silently and Ivan could barely take the sight.

"The poor thing's been fussy for a while," Elizabeta informed. Her tender green eyes watching the struggling child. "No matter what I try he still cries . . . I think he misses the security of his mother's womb he was too quickly pulled from."

Ivan trembled out a sob, his chest hurt just from the release, and other such sounds followed. They were quiet at first and the first one heard by the nurses sounded like a laugh. They turned to Ivan and looked at him, but Ivan kept his gaze on the child. He was smiling despite how his lips trembled and his shoulders shook.

With knuckles against wet lips Ivan watched his child until his vision blurred with heavy tears. Alfred had known. He had known the child survived the crash and he had came to Ivan and made him swear . . . made him promise to . . .

Ivan began to cough, blood was coming out of his mouth and now he couldn't catch his breath. The nurses were quick to lean him forward and rub his back. Before they placed an oxygen mask on him the door to the room opened and Ivan turned to see a surprised Ms. Williams standing in the doorway with her hands over her mouth in shock. He could see the tears in her eyes and when she outstretched her arms and came close to him he could see her trembling lips.

She embraced Ivan and Ivan wrapped his arm around her. The two wept together and Ivan was glad he could cry on her. She would have been his mother-in-law. Now, she was only a mourning mother who had just lost her firstborn.

"He's gone," Ivan cried into the mother's bosom and laid his head against her heart. "It's just him . . . only him."

Ms. Williams' tears mingled with Ivan's as she held the boy her son had loved so much. Her arms would have held her baby close and fingers combed through golden locks had her son survived but he hadn't and so she held Ivan close, wrapping her arms around his head, hugging him tight and secure, running her fingers soothingly through his hair.

"I know, Ivan," she wept out as Ivan curled his fingers into her blouse and clung to her as if she was his last lifeline. "I know."

Alfred's family were just as devastated as Ivan's except the Williams and the Jones had lost a relative. After learning about the emergency delivery of the young infant and the delicacy of his health the Jones and Williams took turns watching the child with the nurse, all fearing for his life.

Alfred's mother, Ms. Williams, had been the one to watch him for the day and in seeing Ivan conscious called the rest of her family. They arrived after Ivan's sisters and together they mourned and consoled Ivan on the loss.

It was hard for Ivan to tell them of what had happened but in time he told them how the crash occurred. After which Mr. Jones pulled out something Ivan hadn't seen since the accident.

"They gave us Alfred's belongings," the mourning father said as he handed the folder to Ivan whose eyes were glued to it. "I believe Alfred—I believe he would have wanted to you to have this."

Ivan laid the file down on his bed and opened it the best he could with one arm. Inside he saw the sheets of images of his and Alfred's child, there were circles around parts of the black and white images showing the gender of the child and then Ivan picked up the paper informing the expected due date of the child. Right under the printed letters of March 30th lay Alfred's unbelievably sloppy handwriting.

After a little while of staring at the chicken scratch, Ivan comprehended the lettering and smiled just in time to hide a sad whine trying to escape his lips. Alfred had written down a first, middle, and last name for their son, and it read: 'Ursa Major Braginski.' The surname was underlined twice and what looked like a heart and a smiley face was laid around the name.

Ivan rubbed his eyes and nose as he stared at the handwritten name. Alfred had been right; Ivan did love the name. The American named their child after his favorite constellation, which in turn had possessed his favorite compilation of stars, the Big Dipper.

Ivan remembered looking up at the constellation with Alfred on his birthday after they had made love for the first time. The very same night when their child . . . when Ursa had been conceived.

How fitting, Alfred. How very fitting.

Seeing Ursa had been hard on Ivan. Almost as hard as coming to the realization that Alfred was indeed gone. But really, it was the funeral.

It would take months for Ivan's broken bones to heal. Alfred's decomposing body would not wait for that. So, the funeral procession carried on in schedule. It was hard on Ivan because the doctors didn't want him traveling outside of the hospital in his state, and then there was Ursa's fragile condition.

Ivan wanted to stay by his child's side because he knew of his delicate state. He could hear the doctors and nurses whispering about his struggles. He knew that little Ursa, his little dipper, could fade so easily, and so suddenly.

But Ivan pulled himself away from the child and left him in the care of Elizabeta while he ignored his doctors' protests and traveled to the gravesite to attend the burial. The day was clear and sunny, fresh snow all around. And such a large crowd had showed up.

Before, Ivan had thought Alfred had been gloating when he labeled himself as his school's most popular. After they began dating he had no doubt that Alfred was well liked in his high school, but now that Ivan beheld all of the teenagers coming to pay homage and give condolences he realized just how right Alfred's statement had been.

It became so crowded that Ivan began feeling uncomfortable. After all, these students knew Alfred far better than he. Many of them had been with him since middle school and the majority had always liked him.

Just the previous year Ivan had grown close to Alfred. Yes, he had known him for about three years, but their acquaintance had been nothing but trouble for the both of them with promises of fist-fights and hurtful name-calling. Even then Ivan knew how handsome and talented the American was. It wasn't until Alfred had kissed him on his birthday that he understood why he felt so secretly flustered around him.

Ivan missed Alfred. He missed him so much.

Due to his injuries he was confined to a wheelchair and from the overcrowded turnout Ivan secluded himself in the back and watched the procession pass on from there where the family sat and grieved near the casket. In turn Alfred's high school friends approached the coffin and paid their respects, some even offering a gift for the deceased.

"I waited for the midnight release, Alfred." It was a Japanese boy, Ivan assumed him to be a foreign student. It was nice knowing Alfred had even befriended those not from his own country, it had taken a while for him to accept Ivan and his Russian ways so seeing this smaller foreigner and hearing his affection for the American comforted Ivan to an extent. "I waited just like you would have and got that game you had wanted." The raven-haired boy placed an Xbox game down next to the casket where the other gifts were lain out.

Ivan watched as the Japanese boy turned in time to let the others behind him have a chance to pay respects. He even noticed the solemn boy wipe his eyes and then take his place next to the rest of his friends. He was more held in than most there.

"Alfred, you can't leave!" Now Ivan was watching as a young redhead touched the casket all the while his older and larger blond friend behind him pulled him away.

"Not here, Feliciano. Have more respect," the blond said as he pulled the smaller away. He looked sad as well even though Ivan could tell he was trying to hold himself well.

"But he never tried my new pasta, Ludwig, he said he would," Feliciano cried, tears rolling down his face as he sniffed. Then he dug into his pocket and pulled out a jar with what looked like pasta contents inside it. He leaned down and placed the jar next to the game. "You can have some in heaven, Alfred."

"Ja, I'm sure he'll like that," Ludwig said before he reached behind him and pulled an older student forward. "Will you get over here and pay your respect, Gilbert? !"

The albino looked reluctant. His eyes kept darting from Ludwig then toward the casket. He looked down and sighed. Finally he maneuvered around the other two with his hands in his pockets. Ivan swore he had seen him on Alfred's football team.

"Sorry you had to go like this," the albino said, his red eyes still glanced down. Everyone showed their sadness different ways.

Suddenly Ivan watched two larger teens push through and he was certain they too had been a part of the Alfred's football team.

"We'll win the championship in your honor!" one said, he was holding onto a football with tears in his eyes. His entire body was shaking before the one standing next to him elbowed him and signaled for him to put the ball down. He did so and inhaled a shaking breath.

Gilbert had turned to them with a bittersweet smile. "Any louder, Matthias."

Then Ivan watched a peculiar pair approach the coffin. One of them just dragged the other up to it while the other struggled. When they stopped in front of the casket Ivan, as well as others, feared a fight might break out from the shorter's shouting.

"Let go of me, you damn frog!" This one sounded British. His face was red and his eyes even redder making his green eyes stand out in stark contrast. He looked quite upset, even his formal attire looked unkempt. "I told you I didn't want to come, damn you! Why'd you force me? !"

It was quieter now as all eyes turned to the two blond teens next to Alfred's casket.

"Because he deserves a final goodbye," the other said, this one sounded French and Ivan chuckled. While Alfred had once complained about his own accent and nationality Ivan now comes to find out that the sixteen-year-old's school was a hotspot for foreign students.

"Fine, goodbye, Alfred," the Brit said with a quick nod toward the casket. Quite rude. "There, can we go now, Francis?"

"Non," Francis said, crossing his arms. "I know the two of you had your spats, but I do know that you did care for him. You might not have ever openly showed it but you respected him as much as the rest of the school."

The Englishman's face reddened and a few more tears slipped down his cheeks that he quickly wiped away.

"Of course I bloody did!" The Brit spat. He finally turned to Alfred's coffin, the tears couldn't be stopped now. "Is that what you wanted, Alfred? Fine! I admit it! You were right. You were right all along!" With a rough rub of his sleeve the Englishman continued. "I never really hated your smiles, your laugh, your corny jokes, your horrible food, your patriotism, or your obnoxiousness. Do you know why? You know why, you git? It's because you were unforgettable and from that everyone always remembered you and wanted to be your friend, not because you forced them. It was never that. I really am glad we were friends. I'm so very glad you called me such."

That seemed as much as the teen could say while his body shook and his vision blurred with large tears.

"There, there, Arthur. That was not so hard, twas it?" Francis asked as he rubbed the Brit's arms.

"I just wish I had said it to him when he was still . . . before . . ." Francis understood and so turned the both of them around and guided them back away.

Ivan's eyes stung with tears. So he bowed his head and rubbed them. Intent on just listening now.

Out of respect Ivan came, but never once had he approached the coffin. He didn't need to. He knew Alfred was inside it. He knew he wasn't waking up again. And he knew he was never going to see that angelic form again.

Now, as words were said and tears shed Ivan's heart gave. He turned to his nurse escort and pleaded that they take him away. They did so and Ivan waited out beside the cars until the burial was over.

Out there he was free to cry and mourn his lover's loss without the others questioning his relation to Alfred. He was not a classmate. He was not a teammate. He was not family. He was not a childhood friend. And he was not a neighbor.

This fact left Ivan feeling meaningless and in so made him feel completely selfish for taking Alfred's time away from these good friends and relatives of his. They were all good people. They all had loved Alfred very much, and had known him for a long time.

Ivan now seemed so out of place. So he sat outside where no one could see him, where no one could hear him cry. There had been nothing at all appealing about Ivan to make Alfred love him like he had so claimed. So then why? Why did Alfred choose him to love?

There had been so many others that the boy could have picked from and each and every one of them would not have denied the American's feelings. Ivan knew it now. He knew how much the world around loved him.

Ivan had been so very glad to have Alfred's love. Felt so very blessed. But what would it have been had Alfred given his heart to another? Well, for one he'd still be here; Ivan knew that for certain. He'd been careless and because of that Alfred was gone.

But even so, the thought of Alfred with another angered Ivan and stung his heart. The thought of Alfred birthing another man's child made his stomach churn with sickness. The jealousy was slowly fading because of the life lost, but even so Ivan felt he would not have changed a thing for the world.

Would that mean that Ivan would gladly accept Alfred's death in this role because of his wish? Alfred had been his for a time, a time too short, and now he was gone. Ivan had his chance to love him, but at least he had loved him with all his heart.

The reception afterwards had taken place at Mr. Jones' home. Many in attendance at the funeral showed up, but even at the thought of socializing not many came sober. Alfred's death had shocked too many hearts and dampened such a great amount of souls that the reception was quieter than normal.

Ivan still had decided to hide himself away. Even with the quietening reception he felt it too loud and so was taken upstairs to be in silence. There he sat in quiet, watching the people dine and console those still in horrid mourning from the second floor.

Seeing them, Ivan felt he should be down there showing everyone just how empty he felt. Crying so that his tears would reveal his deep love for Alfred. But he remained in solitude and waded out the day in his thoughts.

After long he moved on his own. Using one arm to push his wheels was a little difficult but he somehow managed to make it to Alfred's room. He had been in his room once during Thanksgiving, but everything was still in the exact same place Alfred had left it as.

Except he had a visitor.

"Matvey?" Ivan hadn't expected to see Alfred's Canadian brother sitting on his bed, looking around the room in silence.

The blond turned to Ivan and when he did the Russian noticed those red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The Canadian wiped his cheeks and then smiled sadly before his eyes turned back to the room. "You know," he started. "Al's room looks exactly like this at mom's."

Ivan had never seen Alfred's room at his mother's home. He's seen the house, yes, he remembered dropping him off numerous times at the place after their time together in the summer. Alfred would always dash over toward the driver's window and lean in to give Ivan a kiss before pulling away and running back inside his mother's home. Ivan smiled at the memory. He would miss that.

"It's funny, it really is," Matthew continued after rubbing his eyes again and trying to offer a form of a chuckle which only turned out like a hard hiccupping sob. "The way his bed's positioned, the type of dresser, the banners, the shelves with all of the trophies on them . . . almost the exact replica."

Matthew then inhaled a shaking breath and smiled. "But you know the one thing different between his two rooms?" The Canadian then looked toward Ivan who remained quiet. When he turned he pointed toward Alfred's window. "Mom's place has a balcony for Alfred and out on it is his most prized possession. It's his telescope a friend had given him on his sixteenth birthday. He loved that thing to death and every time I came in to tell him dinner was ready I always—_always_ caught him staring up at the stars with it."

That was the telescope Ivan had bought him. Really? Alfred had loved it that much?

Matthew's smile trembled into a frown and he bowed his head. "When we heard the news and . . . and after things were settling down with quiet plans for the funeral running between mom and dad I would sometimes pass by his room. I caught myself one time. I almost came in to tell him dinner was ready." Matthew sucked in a sniff and rubbed his eyes again, this time he took off his glasses and just held them in his hand as he mourned. "I didn't see him out on the balcony this time. I used to get annoyed before, but now . . ." Matthew looked toward the window as if it was a balcony. "Now I'd give anything just to call him to dinner and see him stargazing. Anything."

Ivan's heart clenched at Matthew's tears. His once rival on the ice was broken before him and he could say nothing, but he felt exactly the same and mourned in great loss.

Bowing his head, Ivan said, "I wish . . . I had been killed in the crash."

Matthew leaned his head back up and looked at Ivan. He smiled sadly and nodded. "I won't lie; I had wished the same thing in the beginning, when I found out that you had survived, but not Al." Rubbing his eyes he deemed it better to place his glasses on again. "But after clearer thought I realized Al wouldn't have wanted that."

Ivan's stinging eyes turned to meet Matthew's, their iris color just a shade different.

"He loved you too much," Matthew explained his reasoning. "He would have died inside if you had been killed. He would have let himself go, maybe even come to die himself. You know Al; he's either sunshine and roses or rain and darkness. It's fitting, really . . . that he was the one to go."

Ivan swallowed hard. His heart pounding against his chest hurt him. Matthew had always hated it that Alfred had fallen in love with someone like him, but after hearing the Canadian of all people come to this reasoning Ivan felt more depressed.

Now Ivan couldn't wait for the nurses to usher him back to his hospital bed. He wanted to be alone. To dwell on Alfred's burial, on the friends of his he had seen, on Matthew's statement.

He was kept from sleep and so without a word decided to make his way toward the maternity ward. There he saw his son, his and Alfred's. He was finally sleeping, but he was giving all of his relatives a scare. He was losing weight and growing weaker by the day. He was scaring his papa to death.

Ivan tapped on the covering lightly. He watched the little one's eyes open. He did not cry, but simply looked up at Ivan in curiosity.

"We buried your mother today," Ivan said to him in Russian. If the nurses were listening he didn't want them to know what he was saying. It was private. Something between he and his son. "All his family and friends came to see him off. Do you want to know something? I didn't even approach him to say goodbye. What a coward your papa is, Ursa."

Ivan bit his lip to keep it from trembling. He watched his son move his tiny hands and feet. He looked tired and so very weak. Maybe the nurses and doctors were right, maybe the death count in the crash would rise to two.

"If he were here he'd know how to help you," Ivan said as he blinked away the stinging tears. He offered a smile for his son, but his lips trembled too much and only drop to frown. "Mama left papa, so you can't leave me too."

Then he watched the infant's lips pout and he cried. He could hear him this time, still small in volume but he could hear him. Ivan reached inside one of the gloved slots and touched the baby for the first time. He bit back a sob at feeling how small Ursa was, more so at the wires and tubes covering the near entirety of his body. He tried to pet him the best he could to coax him back down. There was no need for tears and cries when the boy was already so very weak.

Slowly, ever so subtly, the baby began calming himself. Ivan was amazed because his touch was not as gentle as Alfred's would have been. The baby needed his mother, but instead was stuck with such a useless parent.

Due to the prematurity of the infant the child had a very high risk, if he survived, that he'd have all sort of disabilities and things wrong with him. Ivan knew that if he had been carried to full term he would have been unreasonably healthy because Alfred had taken care of himself during his carrying, as well as eaten healthy. He had surrendered his burgers and hotdogs and chips and pizza for a healthier diet for his child.

Dr. Monroe who had been monitoring the pregnancy said that Ursa would be a decently large child when time came to birth him, but now that idea seemed so foreign to Ivan as he touched his child. He could feel his tiny little organs inside his body working so quickly to provide life inside the child. Alfred would have died if he saw his baby like this. In a morbid way Ivan was glad he didn't have to see Ursa, it saved him the heartache placed solely on Ivan.

"I promised, Alfred," Ivan said, inhaling a steady breath of air as his eyes roamed over the sad sight of his small son. "But how am I supposed to keep it when heaven's trying to take him away from me too?" Ivan felt tears fall from his eyes but refused to pull his arm away from the babe to wipe them away and so he just let them cascade down his cheeks and off his jaw. Reaching up, Ivan's fingers gently touched the small head of his child, and rubbed down to his little red ears. "Let him stay, please, Alfred, tell God to let him stay."

Ivan would die if Ursa was taken from him as well. Alfred had been his life and a piece of him had been melded into Ursa so if the child ceases then Ivan would as well. He was useless to the world otherwise. Utterly useless.

"Be strong, Ursa," Ivan whispered as he pet the boy's head that had lulled him back to sleep. "Give your papa a reason to live."

Because if Ivan didn't have a reason to live then he wouldn't.

* * *

><p><span><strong>DOTR<strong>**: So here's some fun little facts for you guys that I incorporated into this story.**

**Alaska is often depicted as Russia and America's lovechild so I tend to use said state as a model child in AU's. Like this one for instance. Alfred [America] had conceived his little love baby on his birthday, July 4th, and adding up the months he would be expecting the little bundle of joy some time in March. The Alaskan Purchase actually happened on March 30th, which just so happened to be the little guy's official due date. But, instead, in this story he had been delivered a good three months early on January 3rd, which just so happens to be the day Alaska became an offical state of the U.S. of A. (in so the actual "birthday" as you will.)**

**Alfred named his first name Ursa and his middle name Major. These two names do in fact go together and is indeed a constellation called Ursa Major. It's Latin for "Big Bear." In this constellation is also what some call the Big Dipper and in this story it is Alfred's favorite group of stars. This Big Dipper just so happens to be shown on the official Alaskan State Flag. So in a way the story was named after said thing. However, there is also a Little Dipper as well, but that is in Ursa Minor. The child is named after Ursa Major and would have been nicknamed Alfred's "Big Dipper" because he would have been a large child on his birth in the expected March 30th date, but from his state now Ivan can call him nothing but his "Little Dipper" and thus is the reason the story is titled such!**

**Don't know why I felt the need to explain that. :/ Well, two more chaps to go and we're done. Thanks for hating my guts, lovelies!**


	7. Inheriting a Star's Twinkle

**DOTR****: Sorry this took forever to post. I know, I had this written, just never got around to proof-reading it :/ Got a little too holiday giddy and sorta neglected this fic. Sorries again. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"Easy, easy, there you go. Oh, watch his head. Use your other arm to prop him up," Elizabeta informed as she smiled at the sight of Ivan, whose arm was finally healed enough for holding his child for the first time.<p>

The Russian's sisters were there as well as the Jones and the Williams. All held their breath as they witnessed Ivan taken into his arms his own child. Being the first to hold him.

"He's so small," Amelia spoke up, pressing herself closer to the chair Ivan was seated in. "But he's a lot bigger than before."

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. Ursa had struggled just to gain pounds in the first month and his healing process seemed to take just as long as his father's, but now he was growing and amazing the medical staff every day.

Ivan almost felt as if he weren't holding anything at all, his son was that light. Originally he hadn't wanted to take the child in his arms for fear of mishandling him. But there he was, the little one staring up at him and all those surrounding, taking in the big world around him.

For the first time Ivan was touching his child, skin-to-skin. The tips of his fingers brushed lightly down those rounding cheeks. He started when he watched the little boy reach up and wrap his tiny fingers around one of his fingers. Despite the child's small size his grip was strong. So very much like his mother's.

Ivan turned his gaze to watch Matthew come close with his camera to record the tender moment. The nineteen-year-old tried to offer a smile for the video but his lips only trembled downward. It was hard to contain himself. Holding Ursa for the first time tore him up inside.

"That's my nephew," Matthew stated proudly as he pushed the camera close to Ursa who only stared up at him with curious eyes. "Beat those odds."

The Canadian reached out and stroked the baby's cheek. He smiled softly. "He looks just like Al's baby pictures. Must mean he'll look like him when he gets older."

Ivan hoped that were true but at the same time he didn't. What would he do if his child looked like their deceased mother? How would Ivan even be able to look at him if that were the case?

When the infant began trembling and hiccupping Ivan looked lost and turned to hand him to Elizabeta. The nurse only shook her head in refusal and instead guided the teen along in how to handle the child when he did this.

"Lay him against your neck, yes, like that," she said as she pressed the child against his father's torso. She could tell Ivan was confused and frightened, but he was a father and should get to know these routines soon. With Ursa's growth it wouldn't be long before he was released from the hospital and Ivan would take him home. "Now, gently rub his back," Elizabeta instructed. The hesitance in Ivan was expected but in time the young adult began moving his hand against his son's back. "Good job, Ivan. See? Those hiccups are going away now."

Ivan felt the child calm down against him. Then he felt that small head bury itself just underneath his jaw. The babe then closed his eyes and settled into a light slumber.

"He knows you're his daddy," Elizabeta cooed with a tender smile. "You'll do just fine, Ivan."

No matter how many people said that to him, Ivan doubted himself. A father. He was a father. He had a young son to take care of . . . to take care of by himself.

Ivan had never really been well-liked—not like Alfred had been. It could be because he was quite dominating to be around, not to mention he was quite selfish. His sisters had always given him everything he wanted, and so if he didn't get his way in school or in sports he'd resort to brutality. Yes, he was a selfish boy and happened to see those around him as constant threats to his social standing. This was why he practiced alone, and why he took up his hobby of star-gazing. In honesty he hated being alone and when Alfred came into his life and showed signs of loyalty Ivan had attached himself to the American who was really his first real friend he'd ever had.

With a child he'd have to be more than self-sacrificing and it was a task so daunting to Ivan that he feared he wouldn't be able to do what was necessary for the child. In a way Ivan was still clinging to his selfish ways. He wanted Alfred there with him, raising their son by his side. Ivan wanted to marry Alfred, for him to take on his surname with that American pride of his. Ivan wanted to have many more children with Alfred. He wanted dozens of little feet paddling their way across their home floors, the home they were supposed to get together.

Ivan was supposed to have watched the children while Alfred went to collage, while he got hired by NASA, while the children climbed into Ivan's arms, sitting on his shoulders to watch as Alfred's shuttle blasted off into the skies, and into space.

Dreams were meant to be broken as it goes. But had Ivan dreamed so big that life and all the calamities in it decided him so unfit to fulfill this dream?

In the beginning Ivan always got what he wanted. In the end it was all ripped from him.

At least he still had Ursa.

The boy had gained a substantial amount of pounds in his last month in the hospital and now Ivan was bringing him home. The Jones and Williams had even been gracious to release all issues of custody to Ivan being that he was the boy's father, but both families were frequent visitors in Ivan's household more so when Ivan had graduated and made to head to college.

Ivan's tuition was paid for by the funds saved up for Alfred. Ivan had insisted he had plenty of means to provide finances to his tuition but that did not deter Mr. Jones and Ms. Williams from contacting the Dean ad paying for the Russian's tuition in full. They told him that Alfred would have wanted Ivan to have it, but then again this was their excuse in many things.

Despite his college being hours away Ivan decided not to live on campus. He did not want his son to grow without him present, so he racked up mileage and saved mostly for gas money to head back from school every day to care for Ursa.

Because of this Ivan was able to witness Ursa's first laugh, first crawl, his first steps, and his first word.

"Papa!" Ursa squealed as he lifted his hands high, clinging onto his father's pant leg just as soon as he walked in through the front door.

Ivan gasped as he leaned down and picked up the toddler.

"Did you hear that? Did you hear that?" Amelia gasped with wide eyes as she darted into the foyer only to see her half-brother present with camera in hand.

"I did, and I caught it all on camera!" Matthew cheered, his gaze on the camera's screen while he zoomed into Ivan's surprised face. "And 'papa' here looks stunned."

"You said papa," Ivan whispered out in awe while he held Ursa close to his chest and touched his round cheek line. The boy squealed and rubbed his face into his father's scarf.

"Welcome home, Vanya," Katyusha greeted as she came out of the family room. "How was school?"

Ivan let his sister take his son out of his arms to bounce on her hip. This routine happened every day; Ivan would come home exhausted from studies, be greeted by his bright-eyed son, and then said child would be taken from him by a family member to let Ivan rest.

"I had three tests today," Ivan informed as he pulled off his book bag from his strained shoulder. "I hope I did well."

"You always do," Katyusha said with an encouraging smile while she led Ivan into the family room where a multitude of toys lay scattered out on the floor as well as Mr. Jones. Ivan rose his brow at the sight.

"Oh, we've been giving Ursa piggyback rides all day," Amelia chirped up after observing Ivan's confusion. "He liked dad the most. I think he broke his back, ha ha."

Sights like these; with the Jones and Williams constantly over at Ivan's house playing with Ursa, was nice to come home to. But studies really did exhaust Ivan and so he didn't have much energy to play with Ursa like the little boy wanted. In time Ivan knew he would understand.

As Ivan put the boy down for bed he would say, "Papa is going to school to get a better job." Then, as he rose early in the morning to get ready for school he would kiss Ursa's light blond hair and say, "Papa's doing this for you."

Now Ivan no longer needed to repeat it to the boy who woke up around the same time Ivan did in the mornings before school. Clutching that teddy bear close and rubbing his blue eyes that he had inherited from his mother he would say,

"Papa doing school for me."

And Ivan would just smile, kneel down, and kiss his son. "Da," he would say before leaving for school.

The one bad thing about Ursa growing, getting taller, his bones thickening, and intellect heightening, was that so was Ivan. The years were passing and making way for his coming of age and an acceptable excuse to cull his loneliness with liquor.

Vodka was his choice of drink. He hid the empty bottles in his car where no one could see them, and he tossed them away in the campus dumpsters. The drink made the fond memories of his lost love fade but it also made his grades drop and his sisters as well as the others began taking notice. While his sisters were more quiet and tended to not ask questions unless the issue was brought out willingly by the effected, the Jones and Williams were different in their approach.

Ivan should have expected their reaction to be like so. Both families had practically adopted him into their trees and in doing so made it their duty to know Ivan's business.

"Should we move you to the dorms?" Mr. Jones asked, looking at Ivan with concern. "Is the stress of commuting too much? If that's what you want we can arrange—"

"No," Ivan rejected. That was not the issue and besides, during his commute to campus was the only time he got to drink without scrutinizing eyes glaring at him.

"Then what's wrong, Ivan?" Ms. Williams looked at her grandson's father with growing worry.

What was wrong? He missed Alfred, he was trying to raise Ursa, he was failing his grades. All of those things were what was wrong with his life. Ivan had thought he could do this. He thought he could handle anything else thrown at him because he was sure losing Alfred would be the hardest part in his life.

But he was wrong.

So Ivan's grades continued to plummet and Alfred's family continued to butt into his business. Ursa was four years now. If Ivan failed this year again then he'd have to repeat everything. All he needed to do was to pass exams with flying colors and he'd get his engineering degree. But his downed spirit called for drink and the drink called him away from school. Now he was avoiding Alfred's family and that meant staying away from his home, his sisters, and his son. The only option was to room in motels to wait out their stay in his home.

He'd been doing this for months and managed to memorize their routinely visits. He'd been away for about a week and now all he wanted was to see his son. Finally when he knew the families left back to their homes and lives he returned home. It was late when he pulled into the garage. Instead of going inside he remained out by his car to finish the last of his drink.

The skies were clear that March night. Ivan could see every constellation visible to the naked eye. He frowned when their names escaped him. Once upon a time he could name them all by heart.

Looking at the stars depressed him and when that happened he'd waste more gas money on the remedy to quell that sadness and by the feel of the lighter bottle Ivan was about out. He was tired that night and didn't want to go out back to the liquor store and so he opted to keep his gaze to the pavement underfoot.

His state was all Alfred's fault. Who would have known falling in love with him would make him feel so horrible. He was gone, had been gone for a long time, yet Ivan hadn't moved on and greatly lacked any confidence that he could. But then Ivan didn't know if he wanted to. Alfred had been the first to stand beside him without fear, the first to love a menacing brute like him, the first to accept him and all his flaws.

Ivan knew he'd never find another like him in a million years. So he wouldn't try searching. All that was left to do was wait for his time to come so that he could be with Alfred up in the stars.

With a sigh Ivan finished his drink and tossed the empty bottle into his car. Closing the door and then during off the garage's light he opened the interior door but just as he swung the passage open he found his path blocked by a very upset looking Canadian.

"Matvey?"

"Oh, so now you come home," Matthew spoke, raising his brow and deepening his frown. "You know I'm running out of excuses for your absence. I'm getting damn tired of telling Ursa bullshit."

Ivan frowned and pushed past the teen and toward the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, he was suddenly feeling thirsty again. "I thought you were in collage."

"I am, but at least I still find the time to spend time with my nephew. What about you? Here I thought you were busy with studies. After failing last year I would think that be the smart thing to do."

Ivan sat his empty glass in the sink. He felt the families suspected why he was failing and from their constant nagging he'd grow migraines and from those he'd want to be away from Ursa. It's been a while since he's seen the boy and all he wanted to do was hold his little dipper in his arms without feeling sick from all of the headaches.

"I will get my degree this year," Ivan assured, only saying what they all wanted to hear, but the lack of motivation in his tone upset the younger.

"Really? Because with those grades you won't be getting shit," Matthew stated. He then darted into the garage.

Ivan's eyes widened. He couldn't let Alfred's brother see inside his car. He didn't want to deal with his problems right now. He was tired. He just wanted to lay down, wrap Ursa in his arms, and sleep in the next day. His sisters wouldn't have bothered him, but Alfred's family . . . they just didn't know when to leave him alone.

Ivan dashed after him but was too late to stop him when the blond pulled the car door open and let the empty bottles slip out, clinking against the ground so loudly that it was deafening in Ivan's state.

"I knew it," Matthew mumbled, his tone low and gaze fixated on the bottles askew at his feet. When he finally turned to a guilty Ivan, he showed the older just how upset he was. "Alfred loved _you_? A drunkard Russian who can't keep his lips off vodka? My brother gave _you_ a child? A child whose father's absent for weeks on end and when he asks where his papa is it is the aunts and uncle who have to lie through their teeth so he doesn't get upset with him as we are!"

Ivan was quiet through the entire chew-out. Matthew was right even though Ivan was reluctant to admit it. When he thought the Canadian had settled down, he was wrong.

"You know we talked about taking custody of him," Matthew brought up and that sentence sobered Ivan up violently.

The Russian's eyes narrowed and frown deepened.

"If you so much as touch my child I will kill you!" Ivan threatened. Ursa was all he had left of Alfred. He would die without him.

"How long will it take before you threaten Ursa like that?" Matthew stood before Ivan's dominating form unafraid, glaring up at the taller with silent threats of his own. It reminded Ivan of Alfred, but if Matthew were Alfred, Ivan would have been punched in the face already—the American always did have a shorter temper.

When Ivan stammered Matthew's face shifted from built up anger to pity. His shoulders slumped and a sorry sigh exited his nostrils, cooling his temper down.

"Is that why you're failing, Ivan?" Matthew's voice was soft and too kind.

Alfred would have cursed Ivan to the ground if he had slipped this low when he was alive. But Ivan wanted the curses, the strikes, the hateful glares because he knew he deserved it and from anyone he mostly deserved it from Ursa.

"Ivan, we're here to help and we can't help you if you don't come to terms with the problem," Matthew said. "You can't live like this, not when you have a child to care for."

Ivan didn't know if it was the alcohol or simply himself that began to get angry at the Canadian's statement.

"He's raised more by you than me" Ivan said with a deep frown. "So it doesn't matter where I go or what I do."

Matthew gapped at Ivan's excuse and sure enough that peaceful laid-back boy began to revert back to his upset anger. "What else are we supposed to do when he's crying for his papa? We all love Ursa but none of us want to be his parent because we aren't. Don't you dare point the blame back to us. He's your child. He came from your and Alfred's love . . . or was I mistaken? Maybe Alfred was just an easy fuck."

Ivan snapped.

The Russian reached out and grabbed Matthew by the collar of his shirt and nearly hefted him off of his feet. Gritting his teeth Ivan narrowed his eyes and shook the Canadian for a good measure.

"Alfred was more than that little to me!" Ivan spat, his accent thickening and even a few words slipping into his native tongue. "He was everything—everything! No one had ever loved me as much as he had, even when I didn't deserve it, so I loved him; I loved him so much that I cannot stop mourning his loss. I loved him so much that I cannot even move on to love another. I've tried. My heart is constantly in pain and the only way to numb some small extent of it is to drink. I forget that way. I need to forget because he's always on my mind. It's been four years, four years since . . . since he . . ."

Ivan's hands trembled and slowly he began setting Matthew down even though his hands still clenched and wrinkled the boy's shirt.

"Every year . . . every time we celebrate Ursa's birthday we celebrate the day Alfred died. You can't ask me to do that. You can't!"

Ivan felt his throat constrict, tears stinging his eyes as he bowed his head in mournful grief. Matthew remained quiet for a moment to give Ivan silence. His anger was gone. Nothing but pity painted his features in sadness.

"Don't you love Ursa? Aren't you glad he's alive?" Matthew asked.

"Of course I love him," Ivan replied, closing his eyes to ease the sting in them. "But I loved Alfred just as much."

"Then you would have rather Ursa died that night instead of Alfred." Matthew didn't look happy but it was the reasoning he was coming to after hearing Ivan's heartache. How cruel.

Ivan had given thought to what Matthew had said. He tried to imagine what his life would have been like had they lost their son and Alfred had lived in his stead. Alfred would have been heartbroken. A piece of him would have died. No, he had made a promise to Alfred the night of the fatal crash. A promise he was failing to keep.

Both adults turned their heads as the door to the garage creaked open and a curious blue eye stared through the gap before the door swung open and in ran an excited four-year-old.

"I knew I heard you, papa!" Ursa exclaimed as he ran into his father.

Immediately, Ivan's frown was turned upside down and he was quick to kneel down and open his arms to his little son. Ursa wrapped his skinny little arms around his scarfed neck and rubbed his face into Ivan's broad chest.

How could Ivan even think about a world without Ursa's existence? It was impossible. Ivan loved his son so much his heart could burst.

"Were you at school again?" Ursa asked as he looked up at his father. "I missed you."

Ivan frowned sadly. Matthew was right, he was running out of excuses and Ursa would have none of his lies.

"Papa is sorry for making you sad, Ursa," Ivan explained. "Papa will be better this time."

"Will you be home more?" Ursa asked. My, was the child intelligent. That sparkle in his eyes looked just like Alfred's quick wit.

"Soon, Ursa, soon," Ivan promised.

After that night of confrontation Ivan checked himself into an AA. He allowed his relatives to keep track on his progress and his grades. They improved enough for him to graduate.

But by the time Ursa was set to enter Kindergarten Ivan shocked the family with news of his move.

"That's not fair," Amelia whined, holding her nephew in her arms. The boy was sleeping because Ivan decided to head out at night. "You can't just take Ursa away from us."

"Technically he can, Amelia," Matthew spoke up after shoving the last box into the back seat of Ivan's car. "Now hand him Ursa."

"No!" Amelia refused. She turned to her parents and pleaded with them to force him to stay. "Mom, dad, tell him he has to stay."

Mr. Jones sighed. He understood why Ivan was leaving. "Too many memories here is it?"

Ivan nodded. "The west has more job opportunities."

Mr. Jones nodded in understanding. "You take care of my grandson, Braginski. Get a good job, find him a good school, find a nice neighborhood to live in, and make sure you'll find a house with a big enough backyard so that he can play baseball."

It was hard to see him go but everyone understood. Ivan nodded in agreeing promise.

"When you get there, give us a call," Katyusha said as she hugged her baby brother and wiped the tears beading in her eyes.

"Da, I will," Ivan answered. He then turned to Amelia and held his hands out to take up his sleeping son. Amelia simply turned away to hide Ursa from his father.

"No!" she rejected. "He's my nephew and the only thing I have left of my big brother. Don't take him away."

Amelia had been close to Ursa. The rest of her teenage years had been spent babysitting the boy. After she had gotten her license she was over at Ivan's home more so than any other family member.

"Come on, Amelia," Matthew spoke up. "This isn't easy for any of us."

"I love Ursa," she whined, holding the child tighter. "I'd rather Ivan go back to being an alcoholic; that way he'd still be here."

"Don't say that, Amelia," Mr. Jones spoke up, reprimanding his daughter. "We are all very happy for Ivan's recovery. He's leaving because he's better. He's going to find a stable job to support Ursa. The child can't live with his grandparents and uncle and aunts forever. Not when he has a father willing to take up the role of main caretaker."

Amelia sniffled and turned back to examine Ivan. She had been one of the most upset with the Russian after he announced his addiction. She and Alfred had shared the same short-circuit tempers and she had actually landed a good hit against Ivan's nose. She eventually calmed down when Ivan began attending AA courses and started bringing his grades up. But now she was being unreasonable again.

"I made a promise to Alfred that I would take care of our son. And if he could trust me then you can too," Ivan said, motioning for her to hand him the child.

It took a moment for her to move and when she had she nearly just shoved Ursa into his father's arms.

"Fine! But when you settle down you better tell me the address 'cause I want to visit!" the young woman demanded.

"Da," Ivan nodded and then proceeded in placing his child in the car, securing him to the seat.

It was a quiet departing and everyone was full of hope and dread as Ivan drove off into the night, as was Ivan himself. But Mr. Jones had observed right; Ivan needed to leave the town because of the good and the bad memories that haunted him.

It was a couple of days before Ivan hit the Midwest. Already he was tired of driving. The stops grew more and more spaced out as did the gas stations.

"Der'mo!" Ivan cursed as his car came to a halt on an old dirt road. He had been lost for a good two hours and he hadn't checked his tank in his search for the highway. Now he was still lost and out of gas.

With a heavy sigh he turned toward his son who was quiet while his father cursed himself.

"Stay in the car, Ursa," Ivan bade as he got out and looked around them. He was definitely out in the middle of nowhere but just when he was about to let frustration force him into kicking his car he took in the scenery surrounding.

Far as the eye could see arose rows upon rows of tall stalking sunflowers. They swayed in the light of the afternoon sun, each smiling at him, opening their leaves in some sort of a welcome.

"Papa, look, a house!"

Ivan darted back toward his car. Ursa was gone from his seat and now currently standing up on a higher hill overlooking the valley they had landed themselves in. Ivan would have scolded the child for not listening to him but instead found himself staring at the house with him.

"Maybe someone lives there and they can help us," Ursa reasoned.

Ivan sighed before holding out his hand for Ursa to take. Both of them walked through the land overgrown with the flowers until they arrived at the small house. Ivan frowned; it was vacant.

"Sorry," Ursa frowned as he sat himself on the porch.

"You're fine," Ivan assured. He reasoned it wiser to head back to the car to wait for another vehicle to pass along the road for help since Ivan's phone just so happened to be dead as well.

The day was nice and Ivan was glad for it. The sun warm and the breeze cool, rustling the sunflowers around them that provided the both of them shade. The Braginskis sat in relative silence especially as Ursa ate his snack for lunch. Ivan hadn't eaten anything from his upset over their current situation but that didn't mean he didn't delight in watching his little boy scarfing down his meal.

Ursa had inherited his mother's appetite. But Ivan was glad because that meant he'd gain more weight and he'd never have to worry again about his weight issue. Ivan had been so scared in the beginning. So frightened he'd lose Ursa from malnutrition be he pulled through and now the end of product was sitting next to him, showing signs that he'd be a large child after already towering over the children his own age.

Both his parents had thicker bones than most, but Ursa looked like his size was more toward Alfred's than Ivan's, though his height would definitely be accredited to Ivan. The child was a good mix of he and Alfred. Ivan was glad because Ursa was such a beautiful child and every day Ivan was amazed how a child like him could have possibly come from his genes. Surely he was all Alfred's through and through. No, the ashen hair, lighter skin, and height was definitely Ivan's. But, those eyes, cheeks, nose, even the dimples in his smile; that was the perfection of his American mother.

Ivan reached out and combed his fingers through Ursa's hair. The boy giggled and playfully pulled away whilst munching on his sandwich.

"You're going to get jelly in your hair if you keep eating your sandwich like that," Ivan pointed out.

Ursa responded by playfully sticking his tongue out. Ivan then feigned shock. "Is my little dipper being rude to his papa? I certainly hope not because he knows what papa will do if he finds his little dipper being disrespectful."

Ursa giggled when Ivan scooted closer to him and in a flash scooped him up into his arms, tickling him all over.

"Papa, papa, stop!" Ursa laughed out. "I'm gonna drop my sandwich!"

Ivan chuckled when he watched his son crawl away to finish his food in peace. He smiled as he watched the boy constantly look back at him as if to make sure his dear papa wouldn't try anything.

Ivan sighed. It had been a good couple of hours since he had ran out of gas. He hadn't seen a car since.

To his surprise he didn't mind as much that he was lost in the midst of these sunflowers because they gave him a comfort. The sunflower had always been a favorite bloom of Ivan's and he often associated Alfred as one. He smiled when he remembered the younger teen turning red at the nickname but it was true, Alfred looked so much like a sunflower and in that it became Ivan's definite favorite blossom of all time.

Only one problem remained about the sunny flowers; they withered too quickly whether in the ground or picked.

Heh, did Alfred have more in common with that flower than he thought he had.

"Can I climb one, papa?"

Ivan turned to his son who was currently trying to hoist himself up a flower's stem as if he were jack in front of a bean stalk.

"Nyet, it will not hold you. Get off," Ivan ordered as he stood up and came to the dangling child with his arms open.

"Awwww," Ursa whined as his father took him off of the bending plant.

"Something wrong with your car, sir?"

Ivan turned quickly to see a man in a blue truck slowing down.

"Oh, I have gotten myself lost and run out of gas," Ivan said as he planted Ursa on his feet and took his hand in his before coming closer to the man in the truck.

"Oh, sorry about that. If you want, I can take you and your boy into town to pick up a few gallons," the man offered.

Since travelling Ivan had noticed people much more nice and offering of help once they set their eyes on his little boy. Americans must have more sympathy for people with small children.

"Thank you," Ivan said as he hoisted Ursa back into his arms and let the man drive them to the nearest town. They weren't too far from town to Ivan's surprise. He stocked up on fuel and returned to the car. After putting in enough gas to drive himself into town he snapped on the gas cap and returned to the driver's seat.

"We going, papa?" Ursa asked, looking over and up at his parent.

"We'll head into town first," Ivan said as he started up the engine and turned around on the road. "Need to stock up on supplies."

"Then are we leaving?" Ursa asked.

Ivan didn't know why the aspect of leaving disheartened him. "Da," he answered. He had set out to reach the west coast after all. Looking back at Ursa he noticed the little one's upset. "What's the matter, Ursa?"

"Can't we stay here?" Now he was looking up at Ivan with those big blue eyes of his mother.

"Why?"

"Because," the little boy reasoned. "It's nice. We can stay in the house with the flowers."

That actually didn't sound like a bad idea. So, Ivan's trip to the west coast ended in Kansas, in a meadow overgrown with sunflowers. Heeding his son's plea he bought the small house in the field and spent quite a good amount of money and time fixing it up since it hadn't been occupied in fifty years. After that, Ivan sent Ursa off to school which was decent even with a town so small in size. Then when he was settled in Ivan found himself a job at the factory in town.

Ivan and Ursa lived comfortably and when Ursa was big enough Ivan allowed him to help with the finishing touches on the house and yard. Ursa had a hard time believing Ivan when he explained to him that he needed to cut the sunflowers up from the driveway. That little boy had cried his eyes out after he had gotten home from school and found Ivan clearing the front of the flowers. Not even a call from grandma and grandpa cheered the child up.

Ursa forgave his papa in time but in particular times when the young one was upset he'd hide out in the back and it would take Ivan hours to find him through searching those sunflower-ridden fields. Ursa practically grew up in those fields he had spent so much time out there. Ivan swore the child entered the rows one day and came out a minute later having grown taller and thicker. He was in his double digits now and had his growth become out of control.

Already Ivan's little dipper was a head taller than everyone in his class. Ivan chuckled every time the school sent him the pictures taken of the year. Yes, that was his papa's height, but even so Ivan believed the early growth spurts came from Alfred because he, himself, hadn't first gotten a growth spurt until he was fourteen.

The family did visit every now and then but when Matthew and Amelia married and had children of their own the Jones and Williams were filled with activity and taking time to travel states over to Kansas was just too much a hassle. Ivan didn't mind. His sisters visited more often than the others but even in time their visits grew apart. Now Ursa's birthday parties consisted of one family member. His friends would inquire about the rest but Ursa only answered saying they lived far away.

Ivan missed them. He really did because they kept him right. They would have noticed the single drinks he would consume every time Ursa's birthday came. At first it was in remembrance of Alfred, but things like that always got out of hand.

If the family was there they would have noticed the steady incline in Ivan's visits to the local bar. It would never have gotten to the point where Ivan openly kept his vodka in the house . . . for Ursa to see. Then Ivan wouldn't have to skip Ursa's birthday celebrations for fear of coming drunk . . . again.

He at least drunk a bottle a day and constantly cursed himself for falling again. But as long as it didn't effect his job performance than it wasn't at all that bad, right?

Certain days he stayed out longer. Ursa was thirteen, he could handle himself at home. But when Ivan returned he made sure it was late and that Ursa was in bed. He was a good boy and he didn't need to see his father drunk off his feet, stumbling through the front door to crash on the sofa.

It was early May when a night played out like this. Ivan entered his home expecting to find as straight a path as he could to the couch, but something caved underfoot and nearly tripped him to fall face-first on the floor.

Looking down, Ivan's anger was kindled on the object. He found that nearly the entire living room was covered with tools, plastic pieces, wires, it was a mess.

"Ursa!" Ivan called out in his drunken anger. He had told the boy to go to bed early. He didn't give a damn if it was the weekend.

There he was, the young teen ran into the room, his eyes wide and locked onto what his father had stepped on.

"My project!" Ursa cried out as he slid to his knees and pulled the broken object away.

"What did I tell you about leaving your toys lying around?" Ivan scolded harshly. "And why aren't you in bed like I told you to be?"

"Hey, Ursa, I got the bulbs you wa—oh, hi, Mr. Braginski."

Ivan turned and made out Ursa's best friend, Davie.

"I don't remember allowing you to have friends over," Ivan said, frowning down at his son who looked near to tears as he tried to piece together his figurine.

"You never do," Ursa bit back. "And he was staying over to help me with my science project."

"You don't have any projects due," Ivan stated.

"It's for the science fair and you broke it!" Ursa complained.

When he looked up at his father, Ivan sobered almost instantly at seeing the way his son glared at him. It was the exact way Alfred had used to glare at him back before they were lovers. Ivan hated that look and to his dismay his son had inherited it as well and was directing it toward him, his own parent.

After a few failed attempts at restoring the object Ursa shook his head. "No, it's not working now, Davie. It's broke!"

Upset the boy ran to his room while Davie sat the bulbs down on a counter and slowly scooted his way toward the door. "I should be getting home, Mr. Braginski, he said warily as he slid outside.

"Da," Ivan simply replied and watched the dark-haired boy leave.

After finally finding a place to sit Ivan rubbed his temples in frustration. It was late and he was tired but he was wide awake, his mind running through the mile and eyes set on his son's so-called project. He wasn't quite sure what it was supposed to be and no matter how many angles he cocked his head Ivan simply couldn't picture anything out of it.

With another sigh Ivan ignored the pounding in his skull and took up the broken thing. He then made his way to Ursa's room. He rapped lightly on the door before entering.

"Ursa?" Ivan sighed and narrowed his eyes at the boy's open window, he was out in the sunflower fields again. Ivan should have known.

This time Ivan was certain he knew where he had run off to in the night. Treading through the tall stalks Ivan arrived at the largest tree on the hill. Looking up in its branches he spotted his child. The boy was quiet, sitting still and kicking his legs with his eyes glued up at the stars.

"What was this supposed to be, Ursa?" Ivan asked after deciding to break the silence.

Ursa looked down at him with upset eyes once before looking back up to the sky. "Doesn't matter anymore. It's broken."

The sting in Ivan's heart hurt, he must be getting softer if he was feeling guilty by a thirteen-year-old.

"If you'd like, I can help you fix it," Ivan offered. "But I can't fix it if I don't know what it is."

Finally Ursa looked back at him. "It was supposed to be a model of the Apollo–Soyuz Test Project's shuttle."

"You're interested in space shuttles?"

"Yeah," Ursa said. When he looked up to the stars he smiled. "I want to fly up there one day."

Ursa . . . Ivan's little dipper wanted to be an astronaut? Ivan had never showed any interest of the career in front of him—not since Alfred died—so then how did he become so fascinated in it if not by observation?

"You think this science fair can help you?" Ivan inquired.

"I did," Ursa replied. "If the judges like my project then I'd get a scholarship and maybe get the chance to go to a better school. But that won't happen now."

Ivan frowned but let the boy have his silence. Maybe when he calmed down he'd accept his help. Ivan knew a thing or two about shuttles.

"It would be better to see them with a telescope," Ivan spoke up, pointing to the stars above that his son was observing with a fascination much like his parents.

"Can't afford one," Ursa muttered.

"I can get you one if you'd like," Ivan offered.

"You buy nothing but vodka," Ursa muttered again.

Ivan sighed. Was he this disconnected with his only child? Why not? He spent more time at the bar these days than with his son at home.

A thought sprung into his head and he sat down Ursa's broken shuttle. He left with his son's gaze following curiously, and when he returned he found the boy still seated up in the oak tree.

"What are you doing?" Ursa asked, leaning over to see what his father had in his arms.

Ivan smiled up at him. "Do you want to help me?"

Ursa hesitated for a moment. He was still angry after all, but his curiosity got the best of him and soon he found himself hopping out of the tree and examining what his father was putting together.

"Is that a telescope?" Ursa asked. It certainly looked like one.

"It is," Ivan answered as he tilted the scope upward for the perfect angle of observation. The night was perfect for star-gazing.

After getting a better look at it Ursa frowned. "It looks old."

"But it is still good," Ivan said as he pushed Ursa to gaze into the scope. The boy did and it wasn't long before he was smiling just like how Alfred used to when he gazed up at the night skies and observed each constellation and diamond therein.

"I gave this to your mother on his sixteenth birthday."

Ursa pulled away and looked up at his father. Ivan knew he never spoke about Alfred much and he was wrong in that. Ursa was his as well and deserved to know him like Ivan had.

Ivan's smile turned to fondness. When once the memory hurt now it felt like a weight was lifting off his shoulders by revealing these truths to his son.

"He had been so happy he kissed me right here," Ivan said, touching his lips in remembrance of those soft tanned lips. Oh how long its been since he last tasted Alfred. "And I kissed him back."

Ivan looked toward his son who was listening quietly. Being that Ivan never spoke about Ursa's mother it was such a rare opportunity to learn anything much about him, so Ursa paid the utmost attention to every little detail he said.

"That night was very special, Ursa," Ivan said as he looked up to behold Ursa Major and Alfred's Big Dipper. "It was the night Alfred gave his heart to me and I him. It was also the night you were conceived."

Ursa's cheeks tinted pink at the statement but his fluster was short-lived as he watched his father point toward the stars and to a certain constellation.

"Right under Ursa Major," Ivan said. "Your mother loved that collection of stars the most, especially the Big Dipper. That was why he named you what he did. Because there was nothing in the world he loved more than that constellation—except for you."

Then Ivan knelt down and picked up Ursa's science project. He held the broken pieces in both hands but his smile never wavered like Ursa's did at the hopeless sight of it.

"Alfred and I . . . we made a promise to each other. We promised to both become astronauts one day." Ursa looked surprised to find his parents had been just as passionate about space as him. "But then you came along and I promised to stay behind as Alfred went up there."

Ursa watched Ivan frown as he fiddled with the broken project. "Nothing ever goes as planned." Taking small pieces Ivan began snapping them back together. "But that doesn't mean we can't pass on his dream to you." Ivan smiled at his son and watched his eyes light up the way Alfred's used to. "What do you say, Ursa? Will you let me help you become an astronaut?"

The boy smiled so big and hugged Ivan so tight that he had dropped the miniature shuttle. Ivan heard it break but it didn't matter. All that did was the son he had neglected and the warmth his loving embrace brought.

This time Ivan didn't need a support group to quit visiting the bar. The time he spent helping and teaching Ursa how to build a miniature shuttle took all his time that would have been invested in that alcohol store and never again did he crave that fire water.

Ursa won first place and was now eyed by high intelligent scientists. His new school was hours away from town but it was worth the drive, especially as Ivan watched him grow and become smarter and better skilled.

Now that Ivan was more involved in his child's life he felt lighter, his moods brighter. Time passed by so fast that now Ivan was staring at a young man who was top of his class, popular, and of course a good head and shoulders above his classmates. No more was his son his little dipper, no, he was valedictorian, honor student, collage graduate and NASA recruit.

He was on his way to the stars.

* * *

><p><span><strong>DOTR<strong>**: One more chapter and we're done! Thanks for liking! :D**


End file.
